The Greatest Threat
by Bears Love Tourists
Summary: Three years after Voldemort's final defeat, Harry tackles his first case as an Auror-in-training. But what starts out as a murder turns into a manhunt that takes him around the world...and an evil greater than Voldemort awaits him.
1. Chapter 1

So, this is my second attempt at a YGO/HP fic, since my first one was rather well liked. It's not completely fleshed out, but I do have a good idea of where it's going, so I decided to go ahead and post the first chapter. It's set three years after Deathly Hallows and about a six months after the end of Yu-Gi-Oh (and ignores the other two YGO series completely since I haven't seen them and I have no plans to), and it features absolutely no pairings (so please don't ask). That being said, let me know if you like it or not.

I own neither Yu-Gi-Oh nor Harry Potter. If I did, I would be so rich that I would quit my job and school and just write fanfiction all day.

Chapter 1

It was a scene of complete destruction. Furniture had been tossed in every direction; an upended coffee table lay against one wall with two legs torn off, and a sofa was flat on its back on the floor, ripped stuffing spilling from its cushions. Pictures had been torn from the walls and smashed. The floor was littered with debris from decorations and electronics: glass and ceramic shards, wood splinters, tangles wires, the husks of a television and stereo, ripped book and magazine and newspaper pages. All in all, it reminded Harry Potter of the first time he met Horace Slughorn.

Except this time, the blood spattered on the floor and wall wasn't dragon's blood. The body had been removed, but that blood remained, traces of it everywhere, but mostly concentrated into a huge puddle that soaked into the wood and choked the air with its scent. There were lumps in that puddle, but Harry tried hard not to think of what they were. His stomach was roiling bad enough as it was.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to see Kingsley Shacklebolt standing just behind him. "Not a pretty sight," he commented in his slow, deep voice.

"I've seen worse, sir," Harry replied. It was true; he would never forget the horror that was Hogwarts just three years ago. Still…that had been a battlefield. This seemed to be nothing more than random, wanton destruction.

"There are those in the Ministry who are not pleased that I've ordered this to be your first field training case," Kingsley said, walking past him. "They seem to think that you are not qualified to interview Muggles. They forget that you grew up with Muggles." He turned around and gave Harry a smile.

Harry tried to return it. He knew that Kingsley was trying to put him at ease, and he appreciated it, but it didn't help. "I'll just have to prove them wrong," he mumbled.

"You will," Kingsley agreed. "Now, look around and tell me what you see."

"A room in shambles."

Kingsley only looked at him, and Harry sighed and tried to dredge up all the investigation techniques he had learned in class. "Well, there doesn't seem to be a specific target to this madness. If the boy is cursed, then it's a kind that causes chaos and destruction. If he's not cursed…" He shrugged. "Something drove him into quite a rage."

"You think the boy wasn't cursed?"

Harry hesitated, and then he shook his head. "I don't know. There's definitely magic at work here, dark magic, but I think it's too early to say that it's a curse."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "It was a Muggle who committed this murder, and yet as you say there are traces of dark magic here. What else could it be if not a curse?"

"I…I don't know, sir." Harry felt his cheeks burn. He was only five minutes into his first case, and already he was making mistakes.

"Harry, I'm not reprimanding you," Kingsley said, losing his skeptical look. "On the contrary, I'm impressed. Even the most experienced Aurors would assume that they're dealing with a curse, and they wouldn't consider that there might be something else. It's good to keep your mind open, even if the conclusion is obvious. Otherwise you might miss something crucial."

Harry cast a helpless look around. "I think there's a lot here I could miss, sir."

"But that's the grand thing about magic," Kingsley said. "It can aid us so we miss less. Now, what do you think is the first thing we should do?"

That was an easy one. "Sweep the room with Dark Detection spells," Harry replied.

"Correct." Kingsley drew his wand. "If it is a cursed object, it may still be here. Be careful where you step, Harry, and remember: don't touch anything you find with your bare hands."

As it turned out, there was nothing to find. Traces of dark magic lingered everywhere, but none of it was attached to a specific item. They moved from room to room, sweeping over the entire house until Kingsley announced that there was nothing more they could do there, and that they should get out of the way and let the Muggle police take over. Harry was more than glad to do so; he had had to check the bloody corner, and he was sure he was going to throw up soon. They slipped out the back door and released the muddling spell that had kept the Muggle crime unit from intruding on them.

"So, here we come up empty," Kingsley said as they made their way to the next street over. "What do you suggest we do next?"

"Talk to the witness," Harry replied. Again, it was an easy question.

Kingsley gave one slow nod. "You really were born for this job, Harry."

"I've been doing this sort of thing since my first year at Hogwarts," Harry said with a slight grin.

"I have heard the stories," Kingsley replied, chuckling. "Now, I believe our witness is still at the police station, so let's be on our way."

The two ducked behind a particularly high hedge and, after checking to make sure no one else was around, Disapparated with a pair of loud cracks.

They appeared in an alley down the street from the police station, noticed only by three terrified stray cats that streaked away. Kingsley adjusted his three-piece suit and strolled out to the street like nothing was amiss. "Do you remember the name of our Scotland Yard liaison?" he asked Harry, who followed a step behind.

Harry searched his memory. "Harriet…Montague?"

"Monaghan. I doubt you will ever find a Montague working with Muggles."

"Right." Harry swallowed as Kingsley stopped on the station's steps to allow him to take the lead. Since this was his case, Harry was supposed to do the bulk of the work. Kingsley was only there to supervise, and he seemed to have every confidence in the young Auror-in-training. That didn't stop the butterflies from beating against the lining of his stomach, though. Harry tried to ignore them and pushed his way through the doors and into the lobby.

There were a couple of people sitting nearby and filling out paperwork, but no one was at the reception window. Harry walked up and cleared his throat nervously. "Erm…"

"May I help you?" The lady behind the window looked at him coolly, and he resisted the urge to look to Kingsley for help.

"I need to speak to Harriet Monaghan, please," he said.

"Your name?"

"Harry Potter."

The woman picked up her phone and dialed an inter-office number. Harry smiled; it was nice to say his name without everyone doing a double-take and staring at his forehead. She spoke into her phone, waited a moment, and then raised her eyebrows and hung up. "She will be out in just a minute," she informed the duo.

"Thank you," Harry told her. He and Kingsley stepped away from the window, and before long the door to the back opened, revealing a short, pretty woman with curly red hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"Harry Potter, I presume?" she asked, looking at his scar.

"Erm, yeah."

She grinned and shook his hand. "Harriet Monaghan. It's a real honor to meet you, Mr. Potter." She looked past him to Kingsley. "And how are you, Minister? I see you've found a way to escape the circus for a while."

"I'm not officially Minister yet, Harriet," Kingsley said. "And not many people are happy about my decision to oversee Harry's first case personally. They believe that I'm shirking my duties."

Harriet laughed at that. "Sir, you've done more for the Wizarding World than the past four Ministers combined. Even I can see that, and I'm a Squib. But come on, we can talk in the back where there are less ears." She gave a significant glance at the reception woman, who hurriedly turned to her task planner, and then turned to buzz through the door.

They followed her through it and down a hall to a large, busy room. It was full of desks, most with uniformed officers sitting behind them and talking on phones, looking over paperwork, or leaning over to converse with neighbors. Harry was reminded strongly of the Auror office in the Ministry. At the back, Harriet led them into an office with a silver plate on the door that read _Harriet Monaghan, District Supervisor_. She sat down and motioned for her guests to do the same. "So, which case is going to give a jurisdictional headache this time?"

"The Harwell murder," Harry said.

"That's one that hasn't crossed my desk yet. You must have gotten to the scene early."

"Such violent and blatant displays of Dark Magic tend to draw the Ministry's attention quickly," Kingsley said.

Harriet raised her eyebrows. "That bad?"

"Dark Magic always is," Harry said quietly.

"I'll give you that one. Have you already been to the scene?"

Harry nodded. "The body was already gone, but we swept house with Dark Detection spells. We didn't touch or take anything, though."

"Wow, Minister, are you sure he's just a trainee?" Harriet asked.

Kingsley only smiled.

Harry continued. "So what we need to do now is interview the witness. The murderer is still at large, and she may have some clue to his whereabouts. It would be best if we found him before the Muggles do."

"What's the name of the witness?" Harriet asked. "I can get you access in no time."

"Darla Harwell."

Harriet stood up and strode around the desk to the door. "Wait here for a moment," she said, and she stepped out.

"You've managed to impress her," Kingsley commented. "Not an easy feat for a trainee."

"It could just be because I'm the Boy Who Lived…twice," Harry said, feeling his face flush.

"Or because she didn't have to prod you for every detail she needed," Kingsley stated. "Don't sell yourself short, Harry."

Harry blushed deeper, but he was saved the bother of thinking up a reply when Harriet came back to the office door and motioned for them to follow her. "What do you know about this witness?" she asked in a low voice as they started across the office again.

"She's the wife of the victim and mother of the suspect," Harry replied in kind. "She's also a Muggle—the whole family is—so I can expect her to be in an extreme state of shock and denial about what she saw."

Harriet nodded. "She's being interviewed by the investigating officer, but he told me that her story doesn't make much sense. Perhaps you'll have better luck." They went down a side hall, and she stopped at a door and knocked before pulling it open.

Inside was a small room, bare except for a rectangular table in the middle with six seats around it. At one end sat a small, mousy woman with disheveled hair and large, frightened eyes. She shrank back in her seat as the trio entered. Beside her was a large cop with a thick mustache. He stood up and nodded to Harriet, giving Harry and Kingsley a cold look. "I'll be at my desk," he said, and he shouldered his way out.

Harry turned his head to stare after him in puzzlement, but Kingsley bent over to whisper in his ear, "Don't mind him. The Muggles don't like it when we take over their investigations with no explanations."

"Right," he murmured back.

"Mrs. Harwell, I'm Harriet Monaghan, supervisor for this district," Harriet said gently, seating herself beside the woman at the table. "After looking over your case, I've decided to refer it to a couple of special investigators. They will be better able to help you and your son."

Darla Harwell gave her a reproachful look. "Special investigators. Doctors, more likely. _They_ won't believe me any more than _you_ lot did."

"They're not doctors, Mrs. Harwell," Harriet replied. "And we do believe you." She gave Harry and Kingsley a nod and stood up to leave.

Harry sat down in the seat she had vacated, Kingsley on the other side of him. "I'm Harry Potter, Mrs. Harwell," he said. "And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt. I'm sorry, I know this is difficult for you, but we need you to tell us what happened earlier today."

"So you can lock me away afterward?" she said with a sniff.

"No, so we can find out what happened to your son," Harry countered.

Mrs. Harwell blinked in surprise. She still looked suspicious, but after a minute of staring at him, she nodded. "You're a little too young to be a doctor," she said. "And a little young for a special investigator, at that."

"Yes, but I'm well qualified."

She smiled a little at that. "Well, I'm still not sure you'll believe me, but…" She trailed off, staring into space as her red-rimmed eyes watered.

"Just start at the beginning," Harry prompted.

"Yes, but where is the beginning at?" she whispered. "Is it when I returned from the store, or before that? When I noticed that Isaac was acting strangely, or even when he awoke from his coma two years ago? Or before that even? Is the beginning when he fell asleep in the first place?"

Harry couldn't resist; he looked around at Kingsley. The older Auror's face was impassive, though, and he bit back a sigh as he returned his gaze to the distraught woman. "Why don't we start with what happened when you got home today?" he said.

Mrs. Harwell nodded. "Okay. Okay. Well…I had to go to the store for eggs, you see. I was planning to make a cake for Isaac's birthday on Thursday…it's been so long since we've been able to properly celebrate his birthday. Even if he's been acting strangely, I wanted it to be a happy day. So I went to the store, and James stayed at home. We have to keep a constant eye on Isaac now. He didn't act so strange at first, but over the last six months…"

She trailed off, and after a moment Harry prodded, "Go on."

"Well, I went to the store. I got my eggs, but when I came home James and Isaac were in the middle of a terrible argument. I don't think they even heard me come in. Isaac wanted to leave, but James was holding him back. _Physically_ holding him back, and James has never been so rough with either of us before. I saw it from the entrance hall. The door to the living room was open, just a little, and they didn't notice me, but I could see them. Isaac looked…he looked crazy. I've…I've never seen a look like that someone's face before. He was…_cursing_ at James. Calling him such filthy names, and not all of it was in English. I'm not sure what other language he was speaking; it's one I've never heard before. But James held on to him, and said he couldn't go anywhere until I got home, and then…" Her voice dropped. "He said then we were going to take him to the hospital. And that's when it happened." Her lips trembled, and she pulled a tissue from her purse.

"Do you want to take a break?" Harry asked.

She shook her head. "No. No, I want to get this over with. See if you really believe me. What happened next…I don't really know if I can describe it. The room got…darker. But it wasn't as if a cloud had covered the sun, or the power went out. The lights stayed on, and they even stayed bright, but their light…it didn't seem to go as far. It was like it was being blocked from the middle of the room, where Isaac and James were. And then…and then…" Mrs. Harwell let out a small sob. "Isaac turned around. He…he slashed at James with his hand, like this." She cut her hand through the air, miming a karate chop. "And every time he did, James would make this horrible noise, like he was choking and trying to cry out. The look on Isaac's face…it was happy. Gleeful. Over…overjoyed." Tears began trickling down her cheeks. "And then I noticed that James's shirt was darker, and that it was dripping. He was bleeding horribly. Finally, Isaac pushed him back, and he just…just fell. Then Isaac began slashing at the rest of the room. I don't…I don't think he even really touched anything, but it all…_flew_ away like he had thrown it. And I…I just ran away." She broke into sobs.

Harry looked around at Kingsley, who looked very grave indeed. "If this is a curse," he said quietly. "It's not one I have ever heard of."

"Nor I," Kingsley said. "We must find out more."

"Mrs. Harwell?" Harry said, but the woman didn't seem to hear him. She rocked back and forth in the chair, crying into her tissue. The young Auror reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, but he recoiled when she jumped. "I'm sorry. Maybe we should leave."

Mrs. Harwell shook her head. "Just…tell me you believe me," she choked out.

Harry looked straight into her bloodshot eyes. "We believe you."

She stared at him, and slowly she began to calm down. After a minute, she lowered her shaking hands and folded them tightly around the tissue in her lap. "Is there anything else you need to know?" she asked. "Anything at all?"

"Maybe you can tell me if Isaac has had any strange visitors lately," Harry said. "Or maybe he has received something, a package in the mail, or something he recently bought or picked up that seems out of place."

Mrs. Harwell considered the question, and then shook her head. "No. No one visits Isaac. He doesn't have any friends due to his condition, and he hasn't gotten anything new that I know of."

"Okay…you said that he has been acting strange for a while. When did you start noticing that?"

"About six months ago."

"How was he acting strange?"

"Well…" She stared to the right as she considered the question. "He got moodier. He would ignore James and me when we would ask him to do something, and he started spending a lot of time shut up in his room. He bought a lot of books about Egypt, but he always seemed frustrated with them. It was like he was searching for some kind of information that they didn't have. Sometimes, when I would clean his room, I would find drawings he had done of the hieroglyphics. He's never shown such an interest in Egypt before. He also started buying cards for that American game Duel Monsters. That's especially strange, since he abhorred games before that."

"I see." Harry filed the information away in his mind. Books were a common type of cursed object, and it was possible that Isaac Harwell had inadvertently picked one up six months ago. Of course it wasn't in the house anymore—he and Kingsley had made sure of that—but he could still have it with him. Wherever he was. "Do you have any idea where he might be now, Mrs. Harwell?"

She shook her head.

"Okay…" Harry was at a loss for any more questions. Mrs. Harwell had given them good information, but they wouldn't be able to put it into the right context until they found Isaac, and that trail was getting colder with every extra second they spent here. He started to get up, but Kingsley's hand landed on his shoulder, forcing him to stay in his seat.

"Ma'am, you spoke of your son having a condition," he said, leaning forward. "Can you tell us what kind?"

"Well…I'm not really sure," Mrs. Harwell said. "I only know that he was in a coma for six years."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "And you do not know what caused it?"

"The doctors never figured it out. Only…"

"Yes?" Harry prompted.

She looked at them uncertainly. "I'm not sure if this will help your investigation at all."

"Anything that's out of the ordinary might help us," Harry told her. "We need to know it."

"Well…this is going to sound strange, but Isaac thought it was a game that put him in that coma." She gave a small laugh that died quickly. "That's why he hated games so much, and why it was so strange that he started buying those cards."

Kingsley frowned. "What do you know about this game?"

"Nothing. All I remember is that one day, nearly eight years ago now, Isaac went to a friend's house to play a game. I got a call later from the hospital, saying that he had passed out during the game and wouldn't wake up. He didn't wake up again until six years later." She shivered. "At first I felt sorry for that poor little boy he was playing with. It must have been traumatizing for a friend to go into a coma like that. But then the same thing happened to a girl at the same school, and soon after, the boy got transferred."

"Is that girl still in a coma?" Harry asked.

"No. No, she awoke about the same time as Isaac," Mrs. Harwell said with a shaky smile. "The local papers were calling it a double miracle."

"Has she been acting strange lately as well?"

She frowned. "I don't know. Our families haven't kept in touch. You don't think…what happened to us…"

"I don't know," Harry said. "But I would like the girl's name, if you don't mind."

"Lila Thompson."

"Thank you. And what about the boy they were playing with? Do you remember his name?"

"Of course. It was a strange name, but easy to remember, especially after being connected to such an incident. The boy was half-Asian. I'm not sure which country."

Harry nodded patiently. "And what was his name?"

"Ryou Bakura."

_One last reminder: Reviews are an author's best friend._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was pouring rain, and Ryou had forgotten his umbrella. Normally this wouldn't bother him so much, but he had also forgotten his taxi money, and thus he had to run all the way home from school. By the time he returned to his apartment, he was soaked to the bone and shivering. He threw his briefcase to the side, wrung out his hair, and began to strip out of his uniform while walking toward his room.

He froze as he passed the doorway to the living room. Someone was sitting on the couch, a stranger—although one who looked vaguely familiar—who stared at him with unblinking eyes. Ryou's jacket fell to the floor from him limp fingers, and his mind urged him to run, run _now_, though his feet seemed unable to obey.

"Don't worry," the stranger said. "I'm not here to harm you, Bakura."

_That's not altogether reassuring,_ Ryou thought. "Who are you?" he asked, speaking in English as the strange boy had. "How did you get in?" His gaze flitted to the living room windows, but they all seemed to be intact.

The boy smiled and held up a key. "Extra keys under doormats are too common, Bakura. You should think of a better place to hide it. As for who I am…I'm a little insulted that you don't remember me. After all, we were friends, once." He got up and strode closer.

Ryou flinched away a step. "You do look familiar," he said, "but I'm afraid I don't have many friends, and most of them live here in Japan."

"And you like them so much that you conveniently forgot about everyone you left behind in England? I can't say I blame you, really. None of us were well when you left." The boy grinned.

"Then…you…" Ryou felt his insides tighten at the realization, and he groped through his memory for the right name. "We…we went to the same primary school. In…Leeds? You're…ah…"

"Isaac," the boy finished for him. "Isaac Harwell. You'd think that bit of trauma would keep your memory sharp. _I_ certainly didn't forget _you_."

Ryou flushed. "I'm sorry. It's just…there were so many. Every time I changed schools and made new friends, he—" He bit the sentence off before he said more. Explaining his years of possession to this boy was the last thing Ryou wanted to do now, though Isaac undoubtedly deserved and expected it. "So, if you're awake now, does that mean the others are as well?" he asked.

Isaac gave a half-shrug. "The other girl who was asleep also woke up. I don't know about any others."

"Yokatta…I'm glad," Ryou said, his shoulders sagging in relief. Though the situation was uncomfortable, the news that his (_no, not mine_) victims had had their souls returned was welcome, and Ryou began to relax a little. "Can I have my key back?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Isaac gave it over. His fingers were cold.

"Thank you," Ryou said. "If you wait here for just a minute, I need to change into drier clothes. Then we can…talk."

"Take all the time you need," Isaac said with a smile, and he moved back to his previous spot on the couch.

Ryou went to his room, feeling a bit disturbed. _Who just walks into someone's home uninvited and waits for them to return?_ he wondered. _Then again, it is raining buckets outside, and the wind is blowing it into the walkway. No doubt Isaac hadn't wanted to get wet. But still…couldn't he have called first? He probably got my address from the phone book, after all. A little advance warning would have been nice. Or maybe he thought that I might not want to meet him. That's understandable. Japan is a long way from England, and he wouldn't want to make the trip only to be turned away. He probably wants answers, and I don't know how to give them. I wonder when he woke up. Was it when the Pharaoh defeated Zorc for good, or was it after that Monster World game? I know the locals woke up after that, but did all the souls get released then? I hope so._

After getting into dry clothes, he pulled a towel out of his closet and wrapped it around his hair. Sometimes he considered cutting it, but Ryou actually liked his long hair despite the mess it gave him on days like this. He wrung it out and rubbed it vigorously for a few seconds, and then he tossed the damp towel on his bed and headed back to the living room. Isaac was still sitting in the same spot on the couch, following Ryou with his eyes. Ryou felt the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen, but he tried to ignore it. The fellow had a right to be creepy; he had been in a coma for…how many years? Five, six, seven? Try as he might, Ryou couldn't remember. There were just too many schools, too many victims.

"C-can I get you anything?" he asked. "Tea, though all I have at the moment is green tea…"

"No," Isaac replied.

"Coffee, or water?"

"No."

"Something to eat?"

"No."

Having run out of options for hospitality, Ryou settled into a chair. "Then, what can I do for you?"

"What you said earlier," Isaac said. "Talk. Although…" He gave a crooked smile. "I hear you're quite a duelist. I would love to play a game, if you don't mind."

Ryou winced. "I don't know about that. I'm really not that good."

His guest raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you a finalist at Battle City?"

"Well, yes, but…" _That wasn't me._ But he couldn't say that. "Okay. I suppose. I don't have the same deck as I did back then, though."

Isaac gave him a broad grin. "Excellent! But are you sure you can't use the occult deck? I had strategies planned out against it and everything."

"I'm sorry, no," Ryou told him firmly. It had been a good deck with powerful cards, but most of those cards belonged to _him_, and Ryou got the chills just by looking at it. So he had built himself a whole new deck, though he couldn't afford some of the rarer cards he wanted. It hadn't crossed his mind once to abandon Duel Monsters entirely; despite all that had happened, Ryou still loved gaming with a passion. Besides, it was hard to give up dueling when your closest friend was Mutou Yuugi. Ryou stood and went back to his room to get his deck.

Isaac had his deck out and was shuffling it when he returned. Ryou pulled his chair over so that he was sitting on the other side of the coffee table and sat down. "Would you like to go first?" he asked.

"As long as I also get the first question," Isaac said, and he grinned again at Ryou's surprised look. "What, you didn't think I knew you would have questions? An old childhood friend whom you believe is lying in a hospital bed in England suddenly shows up in your home. I would be curious, too."

Ryou chuckled. Isaac's reasoning was spot-on. "Okay then." He shuffled his deck, and then put it down and drew five cards.

Isaac did the same, and then drew one more. He frowned at them for a second, and then selected three cards. "It's a shame the rare cards are so hard to get," he said. "I find it so difficult to build a deck that really seems like me. Some of these cards…they just seem off. Ah well. I place a card face down, and I play Witch's Apprentice in attack mode. Why did you move all the way here?"

_Attack mode? But that card is weak,_ Ryou thought. Granted, there was another card on the field, but it was entirely possible that Isaac had made a rookie mistake. "My father thought it would be best. He thought that if he got me out of the country altogether, the…whatever it was would stop. I put one card face down, I place Mystic Horseman, and I use it to attack your Witch's Apprentice."

Isaac flipped over his card. "You activated my trap, Magic Cylinder."

Ryou cringed; now his Mystic Horseman's attack points—thirteen hundred—would be deducted from his life points. _Great way to start off the duel,_ he chided himself. "I thought you said you didn't have any rare cards."

"I said they were hard to get," Isaac corrected. "I have a couple." He drew a card and played it. "Chain Energy. Now we must pay two hundred life points to play or set cards from our hands. How did that work out? Did you stop hurting your friends?"

_It wasn't me, I swear. _ "…After a time." Ryou drew a card. "I play Ground Collapse; now you cannot use two of your monster card zones; your maximum is three. I also play Darkworld Thorns and use it to attack your Witch's Apprentice." Isaac swept the monster into his graveyard. "Now I attack your life points directly with Mystic Horseman, and it's my turn to ask a question. When did you wake up?"

"Two years ago." Isaac drew a card. "I sacrifice White Magical Hat from my hand to play Invitation to a Dark Sleep, and I equip him with the magic card Black Pendant, raising his attack power by five hundred. Finally, I attack your Mystic Horseman. Also, Invitation has an effect: as long as he is in play, you can't use one of your cards to attack, and I choose Darkworld Thorns for that."

_So it was after the Monster World game. So long, and I didn't know. I should have tried to find out something. _"I stop your attack with my trap card, Enchanted Javelin. Now the attack points of Invitation to a Dark Sleep are converted into life points for me. Why did you wait so long to come see me, then? Or why come at all?"

"Well done for someone who claims to be a poor duelist," Isaac said, drawing a card. "Now your life points are back up to thirty-eight hundred, while I'm at sixteen-fifty. I was afraid for a long time. Do you remember what happened back then?" Ryou shook his head, and he continued, "Well, it wasn't pleasant. I attack your Mystic Horseman with Invitation to a Dark Sleep. I see you're not wearing that Egyptian necklace. Why not?"

Ryou dropped his monster card as he was putting it in the graveyard. "I…lost it," he said. "I sacrifice Darkworld Thorns in order to play Great Long Nose in attack mode, and I also play Armored Glass, which negates your Black Pendant. Now I attack Invitation to a Dark Sleep with Great Long Nose."

Isaac put both cards in the graveyard. "Black Pendant has a special effect when sent to the graveyard: you lose five hundred life points. How did you lose your necklace? I thought it was a special thing that your father got for you."

"It's…it's a long story." Ryou paused as a rumble of thunder shuddered through the apartment. "But I'm rather glad it's gone. Because I inflicted Battle Damage with Great Long Nose, you have to skip your next battle phase. The card also returns to my hand. I play Dark Gray in defense mode and end my turn."

"Oh?" Isaac drew a card. "And here I thought it was a cherished gift. I play Sorcerer of the Doomed in attack mode and attack your Dark Gray."

Ryou put it in the graveyard and drew a card. "I play Dark Zebra in attack mode and target your Sorcerer of the Doomed. If you were afraid before, what made you change your mind? I mean, I would imagine sitting here, playing a game with me, would be the thing you fear most. You said what happened back then wasn't pleasant…"

Isaac frowned. "Seven hundred life points…I didn't expect to be running out so fast. Well, I play Dian Keto the Cure Master to raise my life points by a thousand, and then I play Convulsion of Nature and Ominous Fortunetelling. The former requires us both to turn our decks over…" He did so, and Ryou followed suit. "Oh…a Swords of Revealing Light? I suppose you benefit from knowing Yuugi Mutou."

"This is Japan. It's Mutou Yuugi," Ryou replied tersely. "And what does Ominous Fortunetelling do?"

"Once per turn, I can pick a card in your hand and guess whether it's a monster, magic, or trap card. If I choose right, you lose seven hundred life points. For example…" Isaac smiled and pointed at the Great Long Nose that Ryou had returned to his hand earlier. "I guess that this one is a monster card."

Ryou bit back a curse; it was a brilliant combo. Isaac would constantly be seeing the card he would be drawing at the start of each turn, so he would always be able to make an accurate guess.

"Finally, I place this monster face down in defense mode and end my turn," Isaac continued. "Why don't you use your old deck anymore?"

"You didn't answer my question," Ryou snapped, taking his Swords of Revealing Light. "I attack your facedown card with Dark Zebra."

Isaac flipped the card over, revealing a Man-Eater Bug. "That's such a beginner's mistake," he chided as Ryou put the Dark Zebra in his graveyard. "I'm not getting under your skin, am I?"

Ryou was more than a little shaken. The Man-Eater Bug had been in his old deck, one that _he_ had put in. For that matter, several of the cards in Isaac's deck were the same, or were cards that _he_ would like. White Magical Hat, Sorcerer of the Doomed, Black Pendant, Invitation to a Dark Sleep, Chain Energy…and then there were the questions he was asking. Not at all the questions he was expecting, like what had happened in that old Monster World game, or why he would want to hurt his friends, or whether it was intentional or not. No, they were all questions about his deck, about his Millennium Ring, about his move to Japan…it all gave him a sense of discomfort that was growing quickly into panic. _The spirit's gone,_ he told himself firmly. _The pharaoh defeated him. He's gone, and the Ring is gone, and all my blackouts are gone. I'm free, and Isaac…he's a victim who just wants to know about me. That's all._ "I…I end my turn," he said. "And why aren't you afraid of me anymore?"

Isaac picked up the Doma the Angel of Silence that was resting on top of his deck. "How useless. It's a five star card, and I have no monsters to sacrifice to summon it. However, I do get to use Ominous Fortunetelling. Would that be a magic card? Yes? That puts you down to four hundred life points, doesn't it? At this rate, why would I have any reason to be afraid of you?"

"Because I can play this Mystical Sheep #2 and bring you down to a hundred life points," Ryou replied. "Now you can't summon any more cards without wiping yourself out. And that wasn't really an answer."

"No, it wasn't." A flash of lightning came brightened the room, accompanied by a sharp report of thunder. Isaac grinned and said, "I guess it's because I gained a new perspective. After all, it wasn't really you, was it?"

"You know that?" Ryou gasped, his eyes wide and hopeful. _So he doesn't really blame me?_

Isaac chuckled. "I know that. It's obvious, really. You're too spineless to handle the magic of a Dark Game. At least, you are now."

All the blood drained from Ryou's face. "How…how could you know about…" he started, and then Isaac drew the card on top of his deck, and Ryou saw the one under it.

Dark Necrofear. The one he hated most of all, the one that was _his_ favorite. Ryou dropped his hand and shot to his feet, scrambling for the door. He hadn't even reached the hall when Isaac's hand grabbed his wrist and spun him around, slamming him against the nearest wall. Isaac shifted his hand to his throat and leaned in, smiling. "I really am disappointed that you didn't recognize me, Yadonushi," he said. "We were so close for _years_."

Ryou managed to shake his head. "Not…possible," he choked out. "You're…dead…the pharaoh…" But he could see it now. That glint in Isaac's eye that was something not-human, something cold and dreadful.

"Do you really think I would let that damned fool kill me?" Isaac (_no, it's not him, just like it was never me_) hissed. "I have been spinning plans for three thousand years, and I'm not going to allow some tired old pharaoh to have victory. I had a backup, Yadonushi. I used Parasite Mind to implant a piece of my soul within the soul of one of your Monster World friends. When his soul returned to his body, mine went with it." He laughed, a truly chilling sound. Ryou wondered distantly how many times he had sounded like that.

"Why are…you here?" he asked. "You…you already have a host. You don't need…me."

"But I do. I thought this body would do for a while, but it's so hard to move with so many people watching me. This boy was unconscious for years, so he's something of a celebrity where he lives. It's…confining. And the parents were the worst. I ended up killing one of them, and then I knew. It can't just be anyone. It has to be you, Yadonushi. You're the one who made the deal, after all. And it's so easy to do what I want. Everyone wants to help poor, sweet Bakura." He laughed again.

"Deal?" Ryou stared at him in disgust. "I never made a deal with you!"

"Oh, you did. You just don't remember. But don't worry, I'm going to fix that. I'm making no mistakes this time, and keeping you in the dark was one of the worst." He put his free hand over Ryou's forehead.

"No!" he tried to scream, and he struggled, pulling at the other boy's wrists, but Isaac held on with supernatural strength. "Parasite Mind!" he cried, face wild with glee.

The transition was as fast as the lightning that flashed outside. The joyous expression on Isaac's face melted away, and the boy dropped to the floor, unconscious. Ryou stayed against the wall, motionless, half his face hidden by shadow. Inside his mind, however, was a storm that rivaled the one in the skies over Domino City as he struggled against that _thing_ that _parasite_ that _darkness_ that invaded him and pervaded him and crippled him and stole everything from him, even his memories.

That darkness shrieked with laughed. _If you are so upset about that, let me give you some new memories to play with. You reincarnations, you don't usually remember, but they are there. Remember who you are, Yadonushi, and know that you have no right to resist me!_

Something like a lock clicked in Ryou's mind, and suddenly he found himself surrounded by a horrible scene. _This isn't my memory!_ he tried to scream, but the darkness only laughed and withdrew, leaving him there in a fire-lit room of hell. Screams resounded from the walls, almost drowning out the sound of a bubbling cauldron. Ryou watched in horrified fascination as some kind of soldiers herded a group of people to that cauldron and began to push them in, one at a time. The molten metal leaped and splashed over the sides, and a stench filled the air, the reek of burning flesh and hair and bone joining with the one of the melted metal. Then Ryou realized that he recognized these people (_the pharaoh's soldiers_), that he even wanted to call out to some of them (_that's my father, no that's not right, mother they're killing my mother, but she died already in a car accident_), but he feared, oh he feared that the soldiers would find him too and put him in the cauldron with them (_gold they're boiling gold and my family_).

His scream rose above all the rest, but he wasn't aware of it.

In the living room, Ryou opened his eyes, but it was no longer Ryou looking out from behind them. He otherwise stayed still, for he was still preoccupied with his host's mind. While the conscious part was locked away in his oldest memories, the spirit of the demon that called itself Zorc raked through the other memories, specifically the ones from right after his memory-world duel with the pharaoh. It was crucial that he knew what happened after that, for it would shape all his plans for the future.

_The pharaoh is dead!_ He let out a shrill laugh. _He opened the door to the underworld himself and walked right in! The pharaoh is gone! My greatest opponent is no more! What is there now to stop me?_

He kept going, and scowled when he ran across the memory of the Underworld Tablet falling into a pit, along with all seven Millennium Items. That was a problem. If ever he was going to resurrect his true form, he needed that tablet. _Still,_ he mused. _No pit is bottomless, and I know where to find it. It's all here in my dear yadonushi's memories. All the Millennium Items are there too, which saves me the trouble of hunting them down. If only I had known that all it would take is one little defeat to make things so easy!_

Now he did move, stepping over Isaac without paying him the slightest heed. He went to the bedroom first, and after sifting through a few more memories, he pulled open the bottom drawer of Ryou's desk and opened a box sitting inside. "Ah, Yadonushi," he said. "You think you hate this deck so much, yet you can't bear to throw it away. You are more like it than you realize, although I suppose you are realizing that now." He cackled at that and lovingly pocketed his old deck. Reaching into the closet, he pulled out Ryou's long black trench coat and put it on. Then he hunted down the boy's wallet and pocketed that as well.

There was nothing left here to do, so the spirit walked out into the thunderstorm without a glance back. His goal lay in Egypt, and so that's where he was going.

_You died too soon, Pharaoh. This time, I win._

* * *

A/N: Urgh, I stayed up way too late to finish this chapter. Normally I don't like end-of-chapter notes, but there were things I wanted to explain, but I didn't want to give away anything too early. First up is the duel. (By the way, this will not become a recurring theme. Bakura/Zorc only took his old deck as a source of magic.) Because I'm a horrible lazy person, I didn't actually put any thought or research into what kind of deck Ryou would build if he could build his own, or what Isaac/Zorc would use. I simply used my two personal decks, which worked fine for Zorc since one of my decks features a lot of the same cards as his. And then I basically dueled myself for the game (and earned a weird look from my roommate). So yes, those were all real cards with real effects, though I toned down Chain Energy for fear of them running out of life points too quickly.

Second, there's a good bit of the series that I haven't seen in English (i.e. the entire Pharaoh's Memory story arc). I've only watched it in Japanese with fansubs, so I'm not so sure about the "official" names for some things (Zorc and the Underworld Tablet, mostly). If I make a mistake that bugs you so much that you'll stop reading or something, put it in a review and I'll fix it. Just please don't tell me to go watch it in English, because the English version is far too mangled for me to enjoy. Did you know that the entire concept of the Shadow Realm was made up for the English version? In the original Japanese, they're always dueling in Yami no Games (Dark Games), but they never mention a specific 'other dimension.' As far as the Japanese version is concerned, Yuugi's final duel with Pegasus was in a giant magic bubble, or something. And I'll shut up about the dub now lol.

Finally, there's Ryou himself. As should be obvious by now, I hold to the theory that Yami no Bakura was really Zorc all along, so I figure this makes Ryou the actual reincarnation of the Thief King. No, I'm not going to have him go on bloody rampages, but he will have a backbone in the future. I've never believed that he was so weak or helpless, anyways. Also, I don't really like the whole "Ryou is British" theory that is propogated by the dub, but it works for this story, so what the hell.

And now I'm done with this ridiculous author's note. The next chapter will feature more Harry, and Yuugi should make his way in, too. And yes, Malik will make an appearance down the road, as well. I love him too much to exclude him. Please review! I love them, and I love you all.


	3. Chapter 3

Can't really think of anything to put in an author's note other than trying to create a Japanese magical society was a bit of a headache. Also, I'm not sure yet if I can resurrect the pharaoh for this fic. I'm considering it, and I may have a way of pulling it off, but we'll just have to wait and see on that. Also, the HP characters probably aren't getting dueling decks; that would require me to think about what cards they would all use, and I'm lazy lol. Oh yeah, and I'm curious about no one hearing the YB-is-Zorc theory before. O.o I don't know about the American version of the series, but in Japanese it's not so much a theory as it is outright stated canon. But I digress, and you're not here for author's rambles. Please read, please enjoy, please review.

Chapter 3

It took a bit of fancy red tape wrangling, but Harry managed to get permission to go to Japan, the last known residence of one Ryou Bakura, two days after he had interviewed Darla Harwell. Of course, it helped that the temporary Minister of Magic was also his case supervisor. After hours of being run around by the Japanese ambassador, Kingsley had finally come in and had a word with her.

They got their clearance, and not a moment too soon, for seconds later came a report that a boy matching Isaac Harwell's description had been seen in the London airport boarding a plane to Tokyo. Harry and Kingsley were immediately given a Portkey to the Japanese Ministry of Magic.

Somehow he managed to land on his feet, which was good because the room they appeared in was full of people. The last thing Harry wanted was for the Japanese Ministry to think of him as a Clumsy Oaf Who Lived. Most of the people barely looked up from their work, but one woman in an ice blue kimono hurried over and gave him and Kingsley a polite bow. "Harry Potter-san and Minister Shacklebolt?" she asked.

"That's right," Harry said.

"I am Kaoru Kishimura," she continued. "I have been assigned as your translator while you are in our country. Whatever you need, I will be able to help you with. I am sorry that our Minister is not here to greet you personally, but he has a situation that demands his attention at the moment."

"Situation?" Kingsley repeated with a frown. "It's not related to our case, is it?"

Kaoru shook her head. "I assure you it is not. It is an internal matter for Japan that you need not worry about. Now, if you like, I can show you to your accommodations, and then we can see about finding your fugitive."

Harry and Kingsley followed her out of the room and into a large, busy hall. Harry watched the passing Ministry workers with interest; none of them wore robes. Some of the women wore kimonos, more people wore the large pants and tunics that he associated with Dudley's samurai movies, and still more wore typical Muggle clothing. He asked Kaoru about it, and she gave a small laugh.

"Such clothes were never part of our culture," she said. "But I will explain more when we reach our guest rooms."

"Your English is really good," Harry told her.

She looked over her shoulder and smiled and bowed her head in thanks.

They soon reach a large lobby with a reception desk in the middle and a two-story waterfall against one wall. The front was all glass, revealing a street being soaked by a rainstorm. Harry was surprised that they weren't underground; he had assumed that every country's Ministry would be like England's. Kaoru slowed to talk to one of the guards at the desk, and he gave her three small umbrellas. She handed two of them to the British visitors, and then they went out into the rain.

"You will be housed in the ambassador's hotel," Kaoru explained to them. "It is only across the street."

Harry only gawked at the skyscrapers as they followed her.

Kingsley noticed his look. "We're in the heart of Tokyo," he explained. "This section is shielded from Muggles, much like Diagon Alley, but it's much bigger, encompassing the whole district."

"So all of this is part of the magical world?"

"All that you can see from here," Kaoru said.

Harry blinked and looked around again, craning his neck up until he dipped the umbrella too far back and got a face full of rain. Wiping the water away, he tried to ignore Kaoru's giggle as she led the way into the ambassador's hotel. The lobby here was not as grand as the Ministry's, but it was still impressive, with a fountain in the middle surrounded by a small garden. Kaoru took them to the desk at the right and once again spoke to the receptionist. Then she led them to the back, bypassing the elevator and instead going through a pair of double doors leading to a quiet hallway.

"Because of the urgency of your mission, the Ministry has given you quarters on the first floor," she said. "If you must leave quickly, you will not need to wait on the elevator or go down many stairs. All basic amenities are available in your rooms, and I will always be available for whatever else you may need." She stopped at a door with a big **15** on it and, drawing a wand out of her sleeve, tapped it. It opened, and she gestured them inside.

It was a comfortably large room with two beds. On one side was a door leading to the bathroom, and beside it was a small alcove with a table and three chairs. A window dominated the back wall, curtains open to reveal the rain that still fell heavily from the sky outside. A bit of thunder grumbled in the distance, and Harry shivered as he threw his bag onto one of the beds.

"I know you have visited us before, Minister, but according to Ministry protocol, I am required to give you our magic usage policy speech again," Kaoru said.

"That is quite all right," Kingsley told her. "My memory could use the refreshing."

"Policy speech?" Harry asked with a frown.

"Yes. As a visitor to our country, the Ministry of Magic wishes you have a pleasant experience, but you must be aware of some key differences concerning our magic usage policy. Japan is not an original member of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy that was signed in 1689. We had our borders closed at that time, and had no contact with the rest of the world, magic or non-magic. Although we did join the Statute in 1914, our rules concerning magic are much more lax than you may be used to, since many Muggles, especially in the country regions, still believe in magic. We have no restrictions on underage magic, and no penalty for first time offense of using magic in front of Muggles. However, we still encourage you not to do so. With Westernization has come more modern attitudes toward magic, and less of our population now believes in it. Despite this, our wizarding population is far more integrated with our Muggle population than those in other countries. Though Muggle technology cannot be used here due to the concentration of magic, you will find that many stores and technology centers just outside this district are popular with us. Also, as you have already noticed, western wizard's clothes are not worn in Japan. Many still dress in the old way, but others wear western clothes like our Muggle population. If you wish to blend in, you will dress as a Muggle does, both in the non-magic world and within our magic community."

"So that's why you insisted on changing out of our robes before coming," Harry said to Kingsley.

"Indeed." Kingsley looked at Kaoru. "I know it's getting late, but we need to find this boy Ryou Bakura right away. Chances are high that our suspect plans to meet him, and even if he doesn't, Bakura may have information that will help us."

"Of course," she said. "He lives in an apartment nearby. It would be safest if we took a Ministry car."

"You found him already?" Harry asked in surprise.

Kaoru dipped her head in a nod. "All that was needed was to look in the Muggle residence records."

"What about Isaac Harwell?" Kingsley asked. "His plane should have landed by now."

The Japanese witch hesitated and looked to the side. "I am sorry," she said, "but it seems he was not on that airplane. Or if he was, then he slipped through our screen somehow. In any case, we do not know where he is."

Harry and Kingsley exchanged knowing looks; the British Aurors had had the same trouble in London. They spotted him once, but Isaac had slipped by them. Their last glimpse of him had been on a Muggle security camera, and the Aurors still didn't know if the boy knew he had been followed at all. "Well, we know where he's probably headed," Harry said.

Kaoru cocked her head to the side in curiosity.

"His only tie to Japan that we know of is Ryou Bakura," Kingsley explained to her. "That's why we think that Isaac has come here for him."

"Then we should go now," Kaoru said. "Unless you need any more time here?"

"No, that's not necessary," Harry said.

Kaoru turned to the door. "Then let us go."

* * *

The storm had broken in full fury by the time the trio reached the apartment building. The sky was darkening with the sunset as well as the rain, making Harry feel distinctly off-kilter. It had been morning when he left England barely an hour ago. Kaoru spoke to the doorman, subtly placing a Memory Charm on him, and then gestured the others to the elevator. "It's apartment six-oh-one," she told them as she pressed the button for the sixth floor.

Kingsley drew his wand and tucked it by his side as the elevator ascended, and Harry did the same. Kaoru glanced at them, looking as if she wanted to tell them to put them away, but she drew her own wand instead. No one needed to say that Isaac might have beaten them there, and they still didn't know exactly what had happened to him.

The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors opened onto a wet walkway; the overhang did nothing to stop the wind from blowing rain onto them. Thankfully, the first apartment was the one they needed, and much to their dismay, the door was wide open.

Harry pointed his wand at the entrance with one hand, looking back at Kingsley. He got an assuring nod, and he stepped into the apartment's hall. "Hello?" he called. "Is anyone home?"

There was no answer. Harry stepped a little further in; he could see an open door at the other end that probably led to a bedroom, and another in the right wall that opened into the living room. "Ryou Bakura?" he called, stopping at the door. At first he could see nothing but furniture and a bit of the kitchen beyond, and behind him he heard Kingsley move to the bedroom. Keeping his wand at the ready, Harry stepped further into the living room, and then he gasped.

"What?" Kaoru asked, following him. Then she saw the same thing: a teenaged boy sprawled near the wall, unconscious. "That…that is not Bakura Ryou!"

"No," Harry said grimly, tucking his wand away and bending down to check the dark-haired boy's pulse. "This is Isaac Harwell. Hey, Kingsley!"

The older Auror came into the room and stopped. "Well, this is a little too easy."

"You're telling me. What about Ryou?" Harry asked.

Kingsley shook his head. "No one else is here. What's wrong with Isaac?"

"I don't know. He's alive, though." Harry started to turn the boy over.

Isaac groaned, his eyes fluttering, and all three wizards jumped back, wands at the ready. He only shifted to lie on his back, however, and brought a hand up to rub at his eyes. Harry heard Kingsley mutter a quick Dark Detection spell, and looked back at him. Kingsley frowned and shook his head. "No magic," he said. "None at all."

The boy shifted his head to look at them. "What?" he asked. "Who…who are you people? Where…am I?" He looked around and made a weak attempt to sit up.

Harry traded confused looks with the others, and then he stepped forward and knelt to support Isaac, though he kept his wand in his hand. Isaac only gave him a puzzled stare, and Harry decided to start with the basics. "Do you remember your name?" he asked.

"Isaac," he responded, and repeated, "Who are you?"

"Harry Potter. And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt and Kaoru Kishimura." He paused, but Isaac didn't recognize the name at all, further confirming that he was a Muggle, at least. "As for where you are, this is the apartment of a boy named Ryou Bakura."

All three were startled by Isaac's reaction. The boy shot up and backed into a corner so fast that Harry could have sworn he left an afterimage. "No!" he shouted. "No, I don't want to see him ever again!"

"Calm down!" Harry said. "It's okay, Isaac, he's not here now. Can you tell me what you remember?"

Isaac's eyes flickered among them with a terrified look, but after a second his gaze settled on Harry, who had lowered his wand to seem less threatening, and he calmed down a little. "What am I doing here?" he asked quietly.

"That's what we're trying to find out," Harry told him quietly. "Please. What do you remember?"

"From when?"

At first Harry was puzzled, but then he remembered how Darla had wondered where her story began during her interrogation. "What's the last thing you remember?" he clarified. "Before waking up just now."

Isaac thought about it for a minute, wrapping his arms around himself. "I…was in my room," he said. "Studying. And then…something…" He shivered and shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know. I was in my room, and now I'm here. How did I get here? It's all blank."

Harry looked back at Kingsley, but he saw no trace of help on the Minister's face. Whatever was going on, be it a curse or something else, he would have to figure it out on his own. "You got on an airplane and flew here," he told Isaac.

"An airplane?" The boy blinked at him. "This isn't London?"

"We're in Tokyo," Harry said, and then continued when he got a blank look in return. "Japan. You don't remember coming here at all?"

He got a confused shake of the head in response, and then he had an idea. "What day do you think it is?"

"The fifteenth of March," Isaac replied without even thinking about it, and then he looked stricken. "Why? What day is it really?"

"The ninth of September," Harry told him with a sinking feeling in his stomach. _March. That was about six months ago, when Darla said he had started acting strange. Apparently he doesn't remember anything from all that time. What is going on here?_

Isaac sank down to the floor. "Great. That's another six months of my life gone. What's happening to me?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Harry said, putting his wand away again. He was fairly sure that the boy was harmless now; Kingsley's Dark Detection spell had come up negative, and the lapse in Isaac's memory suggested that something had used him and made him kill his father, and that something was gone now. Then he realized that he would have to tell Isaac that his father was dead. "Come on," he said, and he held out his hand. "Why don't we go have a seat?"

Isaac allowed him to help him up, and together they went to the couch. The Muggle boy looked warily at the other wizards as he sat down in the chair, for Kingsley still had his wand trained on him, and though Kaoru had put hers away, her face was an expressionless mask. Harry sat on the couch across from him, and his companions joined him.

"Are you people police?" Isaac asked. "Have I done something wrong?"

Harry winced at that. "We are police, of a sort," he said. It didn't matter how much he said about the wizarding world now, since the Obliviators would have to work with Isaac later anyway, but he didn't want to burden the boy with too much information. Isaac might clam up if he learned too much. "As for doing something wrong…" he continued. "Well, we don't know yet. If you don't mind, can you answer a few of my questions? Then I'll tell you whatever I can about your situation." Beside him, Kingsley nodded in approval.

Isaac studied them for a few seconds, and then he took a shaky breath. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"You said your last memory was from the fifteenth of March," Harry said. "Did anything unusual happen that day? Did you meet someone, or find something strange, or were you given anything?"

Isaac shook his head. "I don't have many friends, and I just stayed home to study because I had a test the next day. I didn't get anything."

"Okay…what about the blackout itself? Did you feel anything beforehand? Like you were especially tired all of a sudden, or maybe that something was pushing you to sleep?"

"N, no," the boy said, but his eyes slid away. "I was just reading the textbook, and then I was here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Why am I here, anyway? You said this apartment belonged to R-Ryou Bakura. I never want to see him again!"

"You don't have to," Harry said, holding out his hands. "What about this Ryou Bakura? What is your connection to him? What did he do to you?"

Isaac shook his head. "I can't say. You wouldn't believe me."

"You'll find that we believe quite a lot," Harry assured him. "Your mother said that he was a friend of yours before you went into a coma eight years ago. Can you tell us about that?"

"He stole my soul," Isaac said flatly.

Harry blinked and looked at Kingsley, but the older Auror looked just as taken aback. Only Kaoru kept her blank face. "Stole…your soul?" the Auror-in-training sputtered. "How?"

"I don't know. But he stole my soul and put it in the game figurine. He said we would be friends forever now." Isaac looked like he was on the verge of tears. "I was trapped in that thing for so long, but then I wasn't. I don't know exactly why…but I think someone beat him at that game."

_Game figurine? Maybe it's some sort of time-activated curse…but who could be able to pull something like that off? It's Dark Magic for sure, but it's beyond anything I know. I could really use Hermione's help now._ "What do you think?" Harry asked Kingsley.

"I don't know what to think," he replied. "I have never run into anything like this before."

"So…you believe me?" Isaac asked cautiously. "Will you tell me why I'm here now?"

"Yes, we believe you, but we can't be completely sure why you're here," Harry told him. "My best guess is that you were cursed, and that the curse somehow compelled you to seek Ryou out again. Why, or what triggered it, is beyond me." He looked at Kingsley again as he finished, but the older man only shook his head, unable to offer a better theory.

"Cursed?" Isaac echoed weakly. "What about my parents? Are they all right?"

"They…your mom is fine," Harry said. "And your dad…"

"We might be able to recover some of your memories," Kaoru interrupted. Harry shot her a grateful look, though Kingsley frowned.

"If you're suggesting hypnotism, don't bother," Isaac stated flatly. "I don't believe in that."

_You're saying your soul got put into a figurine, but you don't believe in hypnotism?_ Harry bit the question back, figuring it was pointless to ask.

"I do not know that word," Kaoru said. "I am speaking of legilimency. I am fairly skilled at it."

Kingsley's frown deepened. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. We should get this boy back to England, into custody where we can keep watch over him and let his mother see him again."

"What about my father?" Isaac asked, confused.

"Sir, maybe we should let Kaoru try it," Harry broke in. "Think about it. We came here to find Ryou Bakura, and instead here's Isaac, with no memory, and the boy who…cursed him is long gone. I think we need to find him, and soon, if we want to learn what's happened, and if letting Kaoru try legilimency on Isaac would help, then we should try it. That's if you want to, that is," he added, turning to Isaac.

The boy looked taken aback. "Erm…okay. If it will help. But first, please tell me about my father."

"I'm sorry," Harry said with a swallow. "He's dead."

Isaac sat quietly for a full minute, staring at some point on the wall beyond Harry's shoulder. "Was it…this curse thing?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Probably," Harry said. "You don't have to do anything more if you don't want to. We can just take you back to England."

Isaac shook his head. "No. If you think Bakura has anything to do with this, I want to help you find him. He stole my life from me, and now…now he might have taken my father, too. He has to answer for this."

"Okay," Harry said, and he looked at Kaoru. "Well, if you're ready…"

The Japanese witch shifted over until she sat directly in front of Isaac. "This may be a bit uncomfortable, but it won't hurt," she said. "I will just ask a question, and then I will try to guide the correct memory to the front of your mind. You only need to be honest, because I can tell when you lie."

Isaac nodded nervously.

Kaoru muttered a word in Japanese. "Look in my eyes," she said. "What is the last thing you remember from March?"

"I was studying," he said.

Kaoru waited, and the boy shifted in his seat. "And then someone else was there," he continued in a near whisper.

Harry's eyebrows shot up, and he looked at Kingsley. Maybe they would get some answers after all.

"Someone else was in your room?" Kaoru prompted.

"No. In _me_." Isaac shivered. "In my head. But it was someone who was there all along, and I never knew. Not until that moment."

"Bakura Ryou?"

"No." His shiver increased into a full-blown shake, and he raised his hands to his head. "No. This wasn't him. It was something else. I didn't know it, but he was always there in the dark. He was in pain, and he wanted me. He…_took_ me, and I was left in the dark."

"Who was it?" Kaoru asked, staring at him intently.

"No, I don't want to know," Isaac cried, clutching his head and shaking it. "It's dark! It's dark! It's cold, dreadfully cold. I'm freezing, but I won't die! Why can't I die?"

Kaoru grabbed his face and pulled it up to look at her, hissing in Japanese again. "Who _was_ it?" she demanded.

"Hey!" Harry snapped, pulling her back. "Don't you think you're overdoing it? Let's stop here and let him recover."

Kaoru turned and gave him a cold glare, but Kingsley nodded as well. "You pushed too much," he said. "Using legilimency to cause emotional distress is outlawed in England, and I believe that qualified as such. I cannot have you arrested here, but neither can I permit you to continue."

"Very well," she said, her blank expression returning to her face. "But I think you are not dealing with some curse here."

Harry looked at Isaac, who was still clutching his head, rocking back and forth in his chair. "Then what do you think it is?"

"Possession. Something was inside the boy, and now it is not. It is safe to assume that it is now somehow connected to Bakura."

"Possession?" Harry echoed. "By another wizard?" He remembered being fifteen, trapped under a headless golden statue as Voldemort looked through his eyes, spoke through his mouth, seared him with pain as he struggled to stay in Harry's body.

Kaoru shook her head. "No wizard," she said. "I am not sure what."

"Do you know of anything like this ever happening before?" Harry asked Kingsley.

The Minister shook his head. "We have to send Isaac back to England and track down Bakura," he said. "Our answers lie with him now, I believe."

"Good idea, but where do we start? He could be anywhere now."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "This is your investigation. Where do you think we should start?"

Harry grimaced. _Don't you think we're a bit past this training thing now? We've got a real mystery here that's unprecedented even for you, Minister._ "I…suppose we find out as much about him as we can," he said. "We find relatives, friends, coworkers, anyone who might know where he would go. Kaoru, we'll need any public records the government might have on file about him."

"Of course," she said, standing up. "Our records will list his regular contacts, his current and former schools, and any jobs he has had. From there we can—"

"_Ano…_" called a voice from the door, freezing everyone where they were. "_Bakura-kun_?"

Isaac jerked his head up at last and stared at the doorway to the hall in terror, and the three wizards whipped their wands out and pointed them in the same direction.

The voice called out again in Japanese, and a rather short boy with spiked black, red, and blond hair came into view, trailing off as he took in the scene before him. "_Hannin!_" he cried, wheeling around for the door.

Kaoru jumped forward and spoke to him rapidly, ending her speech with a deep bow as he turned around cautiously. "He thinks we broke into his friend's home," she said to the others. "I assured him that we did not, and that Bakura is missing and we are looking for him."

"What happened to Bakura-kun?" the boy asked, stepping into the living room as he looked at them all.

"We're not really sure," Harry said, relieved that the boy spoke English, though his accent was much thicker than Kaoru's. "Maybe you can help us. My name's Harry Potter; what's yours?"

"Mutou Yuugi," the boy said. "Nice to meet you. Please tell me what's going on."


	4. Chapter 4

I swear that I never meant to take this long writing the chapter. This is my last semester of college, and the load of schoolwork has been a tad overwhelming. Since most of it involves reading and writing, I've also not wanted to write much in my free time. But finally, here is the next chapter, and I'm rather afraid it's boring, but at least it's progress. The next chapter will pick up the pace quite a bit, but don't expect it soon. I'm not writing again until finals are over, and that will be in two weeks. After that, however, I hope to get back to some semblance of regular updates. Thank you loads to all my reviewers, I love you all.

Chapter 4

Yugi took the time to go back and close the front door. The others seemed to have forgotten about it, and there was no telling how long it had been open before they got there. The storm was beginning to die down, but the wind had already blown in enough water to form a big puddle in the middle of the entrance. He heard two of the men talking, but he didn't bother trying to pick out the words. English was a required subject at school, and he was very good at it—as an international duelist, he had to be—but his teachers had all focused on American English, and he found British English rather hard to follow. He was glad now that he had practiced some with Ryou, and wished he had practiced more.

He went back to the living room and sat in a chair that someone had dragged in from the kitchen. His eyes flicked from Harry to the older, dark-skinned man as he tried to decide who was in charge. Harry was the one who had talked to him, but Yugi had the feeling that he would defer to the other man if necessary. The younger man, the one who was probably his own age, looked like he wanted to run away. His frightened gaze alternated between Yugi and the door to the hall, as if he expected something horrible to come through it. As for the woman, Yugi tried not to look at her. She was studying him with a cool look in her eyes that made him feel uncomfortable.

"Yugi, right?" Harry said. After the younger boy's nod, he continued, "These are my companions, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Kaoru Kishimura."

Yugi gave the other boy a questioning look.

"Isaac Harwell," Harry said. "We came here looking for him."

"Yeah, well, you found me," Isaac muttered, looking away. "Now what am _I_ doing here?"

Yugi looked back at him, a feeling of unease growing in him. "You don't remember coming here?" he asked.

Isaac shook his head. "Apparently I don't remember the last six months."

Yugi felt his face grow pale as warning bells clanged in his mind. He opened his mouth, but thought he ought to have the whole story before saying anything, and so he turned back to Harry.

"I'm leading a murder investigation," Harry told him.

"Murder?" Isaac blurted. "I thought you were following me!"

Harry winced, and Isaac's eyes widened in horror as the implication of that set in. "Who…who died?"

Kingsley cleared his throat and stood. "It's time we got you back to Great Britain, Mr. Harwell."

"Are you going to tell me who died first?" Isaac demanded, staying seated. "And why you're following me? Did _I_ kill someone?" He turned his pleading face to Yugi. "Did I?"

"Eto…" Yugi mumbled, looking down at the floor. He had no idea if the boy had killed anyone, though it was likely if what he suspected was true. But it couldn't be possible…

Kingsley laid a calming hand on Isaac's shoulder. "I think I should get you out of her before this home's owner returns. Then I will tell what has happened. Harry, I'll be back shortly."

Isaac cast another frightened look at the door, and he got up and followed Kingsley out. Yugi watched them go before turning back to Harry. "Did he kill someone?" he asked.

"He did," Harry replied quietly. "His father."

Yugi cringed. "And now he does not remember."

"So it seems." Harry studied him. "This sounds familiar to you, doesn't it?"

Kaoru leaned forward suddenly. "Perhaps we should not discuss this case with Mutou-san. The International Statute of Secrecy—"

"That's what we have Obliviators for," Harry interrupted. "If it's really necessary. I must talk to anyone who might have information, wizard or not."

Yugi blinked at the words, quite sure that his English was failing him. _Wizards? Oblivion? What is going on here? Does this…have something to do with the magic of the Millennium Items? But how could that be possible?_

Kaoru was still trying to argue with Harry. "Oi!" Yugi said, startling them both. "My friend is missing. I want to find him. I thought you did too, but if you're only going to talk, I'll try to find him myself." He stood up.

"Wait!" Harry cried, standing up as well. "I'm sorry. I really do need your help, even if I start an international incident for it." He aimed a glare at Kaoru as he said the last part, and Yugi couldn't help but smile.

"That boy killed his father and doesn't remember it," he said, settling back down in the chair. "Do you know anything else about this murder?"

Harry sat down as well and gave the younger man an outline of the investigation he had been doing so far. "I know what this must sound like," he finished with a steadying breath. "But Isaac killed his father with magic."

"Yes," Yugi agreed. "That is what it sounds like."

Harry blinked, taken aback by his ready acceptance of the existence of magic. _Isn't this boy a Muggle?_ "You…know about magic?"

Yugi nodded. "But how do you know? You never had a Millennium Item. Do you have some connection to ancient Egypt?"

"Wh…what?" Harry stammered. "I'm just a wizard. What does Egypt have to do with this? Or Millennium…things?"

"Wizard?" Yugi paused and let that sink in. Up until now, he had assumed that the Millennium Items, relics of a long-lost culture, were the only sources of magic in the world. There had never been any hint of anything else. But then, Kaoru had said something earlier about secrecy. "How many…wizards are there?" he asked.

"A lot," Harry told him. "Have you run into one before? You must have, to know that magic is real."

"No…" Yugi started, but then he frowned. He had always thought of his other self as a pharaoh, but he had also been a master of the Millennium Puzzle's magic. Did that make him a wizard as well? "Maybe? What does it mean to be a wizard?"

"It means you can use magic."

"Like a magic item?"

"No, just magic. Here." Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the cards still scattered on the floor. Silently, he summoned them to a neat pile in his hand.

"Yugi jumped back in his chair in surprise. "You have a magic stick!"

Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. "No, no, no. The wand isn't magic. I mean, it is, but it's not where the magic comes from. It comes from me. That's what makes me a wizard."

"Oh." Yugi let that sink in for a moment, and then he shook his head. "I still don't know if he was a wizard."

"Who?" Harry asked.

"_Mou hitori no boku_. The spirit in my Millennium Puzzle."

Harry only frowned at him in confusion, but Kaoru spoke up for the first time since he first came in. "It seems you have a magical artifact," she said. "Our laws prohibit us from giving such things to non-magic people. Where is this…Millennium Puzzle?"

"My grandfather gave it to me, and he's not a wizard," Yugi told her crossly. "And I don't have it anymore. What does this have to do with finding Bakura-kun anyway?"

"Maybe a lot," Harry said. "Just before you arrived, Kaoru told me that this case sounds like a possession incident. You just said something about a spirit in a magical artifact."

"Millennium Puzzle."

"Right. What is that?"

Yugi hesitated, wondering if he should really be telling someone else this. But what did it matter? Yugi had kept the matter of his Puzzle secret for two main reasons: everyone would think he was crazy if he tried to tell them that the Puzzle was magic and had a spirit living in it, and it was far too dangerous to let someone else in. Jounouchi, Honda, and Anzu had been threatened, mind-controlled, or kidnapped more times than he cared to count, and he couldn't risk putting anyone else in the same kind of situation, even if they did believe him.

Now, he didn't have those reasons. If Harry was telling the truth about being a wizard (and Yugi was inclined to believe him), then the crazy factor was marked out. And as for the danger, well, Zorc was gone. Atem had defeated him six months ago. There was nothing he could do to harm anyone again. At least, that was Yugi's belief up until today. The story he had heard from these wizards so far had planted a seed of doubt in his mind that made his stomach feel queasy. It sounded a lot like Zorc. _But the Millennium Ring is gone,_ he reminded himself. _Zorc was inside the Ring, and it's gone. So is he. That has to be the truth. Please let that be the truth._

"The Millennium Puzzle," he began, "was an artifact from ancient Egypt that had magic."

"What kind of magic?" Harry asked.

Yugi shook his head. "I don't know. I didn't use it. It was…" He trailed off, unable to think of the right phrase, and looked to Kaoru. "_Mou hitori no boku._"

"The other you," Kaoru repeated. "What do you mean by that?"

Yugi opened his mouth and paused. How could he accurately explain his bond with Atem? His friends had understood because they had been there through the whole ordeal; they knew how closely connected Yugi had been with the pharaoh. But these people, wizards or not, would they understand? They didn't seem to know anything at all about the Millennium Items, which were the only magical thing he had heard of until now. He decided at last to just keep it simple and tell them enough to placate their curiosity so they could all move on to the more important matter of finding Ryou.

"The spirit in my Puzzle," he said. "He was a pharaoh of Egypt three thousand years ago. He fought a great battle against a demon, but he couldn't defeat it completely, so he sealed his spirit inside the Millennium Puzzle so he could fight it again."

"Wait!" Harry said, leaning forward. "This puzzle of your is a Horcrux?"

"Hor…crux?" Yugi repeated in confusion.

"Splitting one's soul and putting it in an object to keep oneself from dying," the wizard explained. "It's the darkest magic there is; you have to murder someone to do it."

Yugi's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "No! Mou hi…Atem was good. He would not do that. It was something else."

"How do you know this?" Kaoru asked. Her tone was even, but that calculating look in her eyes had sharpened. Yugi had the distinct feeling that she was after something that had nothing to do with catching a murderer from Great Britain.

"I know," he told her. "We shared minds. Atem was good."

"Wait, you _shared minds_?" Harry said, sitting up straight.

"That's right."

"So…he _possessed_ you?"

"I guess…" Yugi didn't like to use that word to describe his relationship with the pharaoh. Their bond had been one of mutual respect and trust, and Atem had never once done anything that Yugi didn't want him to. Using the word "possession" made Atem sound like a parasite, which he wasn't. Not in the least. But Yugi couldn't explain that.

Harry and Kaoru shared glances and then looked back at him. "Yugi, you talk like this spirit is gone," the woman said.

"He is." Yugi remembered his last glimpse of Atem, walking through the doors to the underworld, and a fresh pang of loss went through him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Do you think there's any way he could return?" Harry pressed.

"No!" Yugi burst out in frustration. "Atem is gone. He was…part of me, and now he is gone. He is where he belongs, and he's not coming back. If a spirit has come back, it is the demon in the Millennium Ring, but I don't know how—"

"Wait!" Harry said, bringing his rambling tirade to a halt. "There's more than just one spirit? Someone else was also being possessed?"

Yugi hesitated, but there was no getting around it; this was most likely the very reason why Ryou was missing. "Bakura-kun," he whispered. "He had the Millennium Ring. Its spirit was not good."

"Was it bad enough to murder a man?"

"Definitely."

Harry threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why didn't you just tell us this in the first place?"

"I didn't know if you would believe me." Yugi paused, his eyes darting back and forth between the two. "Do you believe me?"

This time it was Harry who paused and considered the question. "I'm not sure," he said after a minute. "What you say makes some sense, but it's different from what I know. I know about possessions, and about souls being attached to objects, but I've never heard of them being anything but bad. But I'll admit I know next to nothing about the history of magic. If these Millenniums Items really were made in ancient Egypt, they could have some sort of magic that I wouldn't be familiar with. So I'll accept what you say. I don't have much of a choice; you're my only lead in this case right now."

"I don't know how much I can help…" Yugi replied. Even if Zorc's spirit had come back (which couldn't be true, he prayed it wasn't true), he couldn't do anything to stop it. It was Atem who had defeated Zorc, and now Atem was gone. What could Yugi hope to do?

"Just tell me everything you can about your friend and whatever's possessing him," Harry said. "Maybe from there we can figure out where to find him."

"If he really is possessed again," Yugi murmured.

"You think not?" Kaoru asked.

"It's supposed to be gone." Yugi looked down and shivered slightly. "Atem defeated the Ring's spirit, and it's supposed to be gone. I don't know how it could be back." He looked up again, and his gaze fell on the deck of care that Harry had placed on the coffee table. It was too thick to be just Ryou's deck; some other cards must have gotten mixed in. Maybe he had been playing a game with Isaac, and something had happened. Curious, Yugi reached out and picked up the cards. Harry watched but didn't say anything as he shuffled through them.

The uneasy feeling in his stomach grew into full-blown fear as he looked at the cards. Some of them were clearly from Ryou's newest deck, but the others…they were fiends. Most weren't as rare as the cards in Ryou's old deck, but they shared that same theme, grotesque monsters and dark magic and trap cards. Still, Yugi hoped that it was some kind of wild coincidence. That is, until he saw Dark Necrofear.

"_Masaka_," he breathed. Dropping the cards, he stood up and rushed into Ryou's bedroom. Harry followed and called after him in confusion, but Yugi ignored him. Opening the bottom drawer of the desk, he rooted through in, shoving aside the notebooks and dumping out the contents of the little box in the back. An old pencil and pad of post-its fell out, but the deck wasn't there anymore.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked from the doorway.

Yugi took a deep breath as he stood and turned to face the wizard. "Bakura-kun's deck is gone," he said. "The one Zorc made. He never played with it anymore."

"So?"

"Zorc must be back. That's the only explanation. I don't understand how, though." Yugi nudged the drawer shut with his foot and started back for the living room.

Harry moved aside to let him pass and then followed. "Wait, back up, I don't understand. How do cards have anything to do with this?"

Yugi turned and gave him a piercing look. "They're tied to the magic of the Millennium Items. He may not have the Ring, but Zorc might still be able to use magic with those cards."

"There's magic in a children's card game?" Harry asked blankly.

Yugi felt his face heat. "It's not a children's card game. It's a game of great power that was played in Egypt a long time ago. Today we just use cards for it."

"Do a lot of Muggles play this magic card game?"

"No no no," Yugi said, shaking his head. "The magic in the game is the same as the Millennium Items. Only someone with an Item can use the cards for magic."

"I see," Harry said, though it was obvious from his tone that he didn't.

The younger man ignored it and picked up the deck on the table, half-heartedly flipping through it and pulling out the cards from Isaac's deck to throw back down. They made him feel sick—yet more evidence that Zorc hadn't been defeated after all. _We failed, mou hitori no boku,_ he thought to himself. _We messed up, and now Zorc is free. He can do what he wants…_

He froze, and then whirled around to face Harry. "I may know where Bakura-kun is going."

Harry blinked. "What? Where?"

"Egypt." Yugi rooted out the last of Isaac's cards and tucked Ryou's deck into a pocket. Then he looked up at the wizards. "It's where the Millennium Items are. He always wanted to collect all the Items, so he will go find them." The underworld tablet was there too—the thought of it made his mouth run dry—but he didn't bother to explain that. If these supposed wizards were already having trouble believing him, they might write him off as crazy if he added that bit.

Harry paced through the living room as he thought about that. "Egypt," he muttered. "I don't know much about Egypt, but maybe Kingsley will. Bill would be able to help for sure." He turned back to Yugi suddenly. "I've got to act fast if I'm going to catch your friend. Can you give me your number so I can call you if I have any more questions?"

"Of course," Yugi said, looking around for pen and paper. He spotted some on a lamp table by the window and walked over to it. He scribbled down his number, added his address for good measure, and brought it back to Harry. As he handed it over, he couldn't help but ask, "Wizards use telephones, too?"

Harry chuckled at him. "Not usually, but it's faster and less conspicuous than using owls for messages."

Yugi had never heard the word 'conspicuous' before, but he smiled and nodded as if he understood.

"We're going to find your friend," Harry told him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be all right."

"I'm not sure about that…" Yugi muttered, but Harry gave his shoulder a squeeze and let him go.

"I'm going back to the Ministry now, but Kaoru or I will be in touch," he said.

Yugi glanced at the Japanese woman, who had a sour look on her face, and thought that he would rather hear from Harry. "You need to talk to the Tomb Keeper's Clan in Egypt," he said. "They will know what to do."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." Harry looked at Kaoru and tilted his head back to the door. "Let's go, then."

Yugi watched them leave, bowing at Kaoru as she did to him. The door clicked shut, and he was all alone in his friend's apartment, hearing only the rain outside and a clock ticking on the wall. He stood still for a minute, trying to make sense of all he had just learned, and then he rushed to the phone. He had to try three times to dial the right number since his fingers were shaking so much, but finally he got through it and listened to the hum of the other end ringing until a familiar voice picked up and said, "Yeah?"

"Jounounchi-kun! It's Yugi." He paused long enough to swallow. "We've got to get together with the others and talk."


	5. Chapter 5

So glad school is over now! I'd say I can get back to a regular once a week schedule, but I'm moving soon so that will disrupt things. However my updates will still be faster, and if they're not then feel free to throw rotten tomatoes at me. That'll get me motivated. Thank you all so very much for the kind reviews concerning the last not-so-great chapter. This one should be much better.

Chapter 5

Harry was in a daze when he left the small apartment, and it hadn't lifted by the time he returned to the Japanese Ministry of Magic. He had thought that the magical world had sprung every surprise it could on him years ago, that by the time he defeated Voldemort, he knew how it all worked. The thought that there was another kind of magic, an ancient kind that wasn't in any book he had ever read or any lesson he had ever had, set his head spinning.

Kaoru was no help, either. She answered his few questions with short, non-committal grunts. Harry was sure she was just as clueless as he was and unwilling to admit it. He soon gave up trying to talk to her and simply followed her back to the magical district of Tokyo.

Kingsley hadn't returned by the time he arrived at the Ministry, so Harry left him a brief message and asked Kaoru to help him find a telephone. Owls may have been the standard for wizard communication, but right now they were far too slow for convenience, and besides that they were conspicuous. Hermione was visiting her parents, and she might not appreciate having an owl fly in suddenly.

There turned out to be a telephone in the Muggle Relations Office (something Harry thought would be a good idea to add to the British Ministry), and Kaoru left him for a few minutes so he could talk in private. Harry went through the process of placing an international call and tapped the desk impatiently with his fingers and the other end of the line buzzed.

After five rings, the line clicked and a sleepy voice said, "Hello?"

Harry winced, he had forgotten about the time difference. It was early morning in Britain. "Hey, Hermione. It's Harry."

"Harry? Do you know what time it is?"

"Yeah, sorry about that, but I really need your help. Listen, I'm—"

"It's two in the morning," she interrupted. "Whatever you need help with, it can wait until a decent hour. Better yet, send me a message by owl."

"No, wait," Harry said, raising his voice in case she was moving to hang up. "Hermione, I'm in Japan on a case, and I've run across some things I don't understand. I'm sorry about waking you, but I really need your help on this. I don't know of anyone else who can."

There was a pause in which Harry expected to hear her hang up at any second, but finally she said, "Okay. Tell me what's going on."

So Harry gave her all the details of his case, starting with the grisly murder that started it all and working his way slowly through everything he had learned here in Japan. Hermione listened quietly, only interrupting a couple of times with questions about specifics. "I guess I'm headed to Egypt next," he said at last. "But I'm feeling kind of lost. You always listened in History of Magic; have you ever heard of anything like this?"

"No, I haven't." Hermione sounded just as confused as he felt.

"What?"

"Harry, it's common knowledge that the way we use magic has evolved over time, but you're talking about something from three thousand years ago, and that's if that boy isn't lying to you."

"But there has to be something out there. Ron once said that Bill had told him about some nasty curses that the Egyptian wizards had placed on their tombs."

"Yes, well, part of the nastiness is that we don't always know how to remove them," Hermione replied.

Harry sighed in frustration. "Then how am I supposed to deal with this? It was supposed to be a simple open-and-shut cursed object case. I'm feeling a little out of my league at the moment."

"Harry, you've been out of your league since the day you set foot in Hogwarts," Hermione said dryly. "We've made it all right so far. If anyone can solve all this, it's you."

"As long as I have a smart friend to help me."

She chuckled softly. "I'll start doing some research in the morning, but I can't promise much. Try to get some sleep in the meantime, Harry. You sound exhausted."

Harry realized then that he felt exhausted. Though it was just beginning to get dark in Japan, his body was still running on British time, where it was well past time for sleep. "Right," he said. "I will. Thanks, Hermione. I'll be in touch."

"Take care, Harry."

"You too." He hung up the phone and turned to find Kingsley watching him from the doorway. "Oh, you're back. How's Isaac?"

"Not so good," Kingsley told him. "I tried to ask him a few more questions, but he was in hysterics by the time we returned to London. The best thing we can do is let the Obliviators modify his memory."

"I doubt he remembers any of his time possessed, anyway," Harry murmured.

Kingsley arched an eyebrow. "So you think that really is the case?"

"Yeah. Didn't Kaoru tell you want we learned?"

"She showed me to you and left, saying she had a meeting to attend."

Harry swallowed another sigh. He did not want to go through Yugi's story again; it only seemed more strange and confusing with each repetition. "Well, that's great. How are we going to get back to our rooms?"

"I remember the way. You should work on things like that."

"Right," Harry said, feeling his face heat.

Kingsley stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come now, Harry. This is your first case. I don't expect you to be perfect."

"My first case, and it's becoming more complicated by the minute," Harry grumbled.

"I'd say you've handled it well so far."

Harry frowned at him. "Sir, we might have to go to Egypt next."

"Really." Kingsley let his hand fall from Harry's shoulder. "Perhaps we could go back to our rooms. You can tell me what you learned on the way."

"Okay. Sir, did you get my message?" Harry asked as they strode out of the office and turned down the hall.

"I did. I also already contacted Gringotts and spoken to a goblin representative who promised to get Bill Weasley. He should be in touch soon."

"Great," Harry said.

"Now help me understand why you need to talk to him. What is this about going to Egypt?"

Harry took a deep breath and began the explanation again.

They had reached their rooms by the time Harry finished. Kingsley sat on the edge of a chair and pondered the tale for a while. "I can see now why you want to talk to Bill Weasley, but I doubt he can help," he said. "Miss Granger is right; we know very little about the magic of the more ancient civilizations. If all this is true, then our best source of information would be that boy Yugi."

"Or Ryou Bakura himself," Harry said. "I have no idea if he can use magic to travel, or how fast he can. Do you think he could be in Egypt already?"

Kingsley shook his head. "It is possible, but not very likely. I suggest sending a message to the Egyptian Aurors' Office, however, so they can be on the lookout."

"Right," Harry mumbled, digging into his pack for ink and parchment immediately so that Kingsley wouldn't see his burning face. It was yet another thing he had forgotten. He was beginning to wonder if he was really cut out for being an Auror.

Finding the supplies, he took them out and sat down at the desk, thinking for a minute of the proper wording for a message from one bureau to another, and then of what to tell them. At last he made up his mind and started to scribble the message down. "Sir," he said as he finished up. "I have to wonder if we're getting into something too big for me to handle. I mean, this was supposed to be a simple case, right? And now we're traveling all over the world and learning about artifacts with an ancient magic that no one knows about while suspecting that our murderer is a possessor who can jump bodies. I'm beginning to feel a tad bit overwhelmed."

"More so than battling a dark wizard whose soul was divided into several things, yourself included?" Kingsley countered calmly.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but he ended up only blowing on the parchment to make sure the ink was dry. "Hermione said much the same thing," he said at last. "What could possibly be worse than Voldemort?"

"There may be something out there worse than Voldemort," Kingsley said, taking him by surprise. "But you have already proved your worth, Harry. As strange as this case is becoming, I wouldn't want any other man on the job. Keep confidence in yourself. You may not have the logistical side of the job down yet, but you are already the best Auror I know."

Harry's face began to heat again, but this time it was a blush of proud embarrassment rather than humiliation. "Er, thank you sir. Perhaps you should read this to make sure it's all right before I send it off." He handed the message over, but a short burst of sparks from the fireplace caught their attention before he could read it.

Bill Weasley's head appeared there, rotated a couple of times, and then he grinned at them. "Hey Harry, Kingsley. I hear you want to talk to me. What are you doing all the way in Japan?"

"It's a long story," Harry told him. "I hope we didn't wake you."

"It's okay. I had to get up early to go out to a dig anyway," Bill replied with a yawn.

Harry wasn't quite sure he believed that, but he forged ahead anyway. "Bill, have you heard of anything called the Millennium Items?"

He thought a moment and shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell. What are they?"

"Apparently they're magical artifacts from Ancient Egypt," Kingsley said. "We're investigating a murder, and these Millennium Items have something to do with it. Harry here had hoped you would be able to help us."

Bill frowned. "So you're investigating a British murder, I'm guessing, you're in Japan, and you want to know about Egyptian artifacts? I'm a little confused."

Harry sighed and gave him the account of their case, leaving out the bulk of Yugi's story. "We're heading to Egypt next," he finished. "An informant told us to look for these Millennium Items, and to get help from the Tomb Keeper's Clan."

"The Tomb Keeper's Clan?" Bill echoed. He snorted. "Good luck with that. They're the most reclusive people you'll ever find. They live underground, and I've heard that until a few years ago they didn't even come out into the light of day. Gringotts has had a lot of trouble with them in the past; they don't let anyone touch the tombs or the artifacts under their care. Only once they sent an exhibition to Japan, which angered the goblins here more than a little."

"Well, I don't really care much about their artifacts," Harry said bluntly. "I just want to catch this murderer. And if they can keep the Millennium Items safe from him without my help, then my job's easier for it."

"Right." Bill fell silent for a moment, thinking. "Tell you what. I'll pull some strings and see if I can get in touch with the Tomb Keepers for you. Maybe since this is a special circumstance you can get some leeway from them."

Harry grinned. "Thanks Bill."

"No problem." He yawned again. "I've got to get ready for that dig now, but I'll meet you at the Egyptian Ministry later. When do you think you'll be here?"

Harry paused and looked back at Kingsley. "Not until later today your time," the older man said. "Harry and I need to get some rest."

"Okay then. I'll be there around five at the earliest. See you then." Bill's head vanished from the fire.

"As always, Harry, you prove yourself resourceful," Kingsley commented. "I wouldn't have thought about contacting Bill Weasley for help, and it turned out to be good help."

"Thanks, sir," Harry said, trying to hold back a yawn of his own.

"You get some sleep now," the older man said. "I'll take a look at this letter and then send it to the Egyptian Ministry. Be sure to get up early; we've a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Right," Harry answered absently as Kingsley stood and walked out of the room. He quickly changed into his night clothes and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Bakura drummed his fingers impatiently against the armrest as the airplane taxied off the runway. This was by far the best and fastest way to travel, but now that he had arrived in Egypt, he felt like the plane was crawling at the slowest possible pace. The Millennium Items were almost within his grasp, but he couldn't get to them until he got away from the airport and the infernal vermin that crawled all over it, trying to restrict where he could go and when. Sneaking through customs in Japan had been easy; getting through it here wouldn't be much harder, though it was difficult to contain the impulse to just kill everyone in his way.

He had neglected to get Ryou's passport before leaving, preferring not to bother with such silly human trivialities. He could use magic to slip through the checkpoints with ease; the problem was getting out to the ancient tomb of Pharaoh Atem. That was where the Items and the underworld tablet were buried. He chuckled softly again at the thought, drawing a confused stare from the man sitting beside him. To think that Yugi and Ryou had left the Millennium Items where they had fallen, as if no one would be able to come along and dig them out of their hole. The human vessels could be so foolish. It would cost them everything, and soon.

Finally the plane came to a stop at its gate, and the passengers began to stand up and pull their luggage out of the overhead compartments. Bakura's finger-tapping sped up as they clogged the aisle in front of him. He didn't bother to stand, knowing that it wouldn't speed up the process at all. The man in the window seat beside him did, however. He stood doubled over and leaning slightly towards Bakura as if his posture would make the white-haired teen beside him stand up as well and scramble for a place in the crowded aisle. Bakura merely relaxed back into his seat and entertained visions of playing a shadow game with the fool.

At last the line started moving, and Bakura was able to get up and exit the plane. Not having any luggage was a plus; he was able to go straight to the currency counter and then from there to the taxi stand outside. As he had planned, he slipped through customs without a hitch by using his shadow magic to turn invisible in a corner where no one saw him. Humans were so pathetically easy to fool.

Fortunately Ryou knew a smattering of Arabic from a few trips to Egypt with his father, so he was able to make the taxi driver understand where he wanted to go. The cabbie wasn't happy about it since the Tomb Keepers had a hard-earned reputation for reclusiveness, but Bakura told him that he could stop a block away to let him out. He didn't want to announce his presence anyway; he was only going there first to be sure the Ishtars hadn't already dug up the Millennium Items. Malik was not as easily fooled as the Pharaoh's vessel, after all. Bakura wouldn't acknowledge having respect for any human, but he came close to it with Malik.

The sun was just beginning to rise as the taxi driver sped out of the city and into the open desert. It glimmered off the Nile River, visible to his left along with the pyramids beyond. Bakura smiled. It felt so good to be home. With any luck, he would never have to leave again, and from here he would cover the world in darkness.

He sat back in the seat and idly checked on Ryou, still trapped in his soul room with the ancient memories the demon had unleashed. Bakura wasn't the least bit worried about him, but he got a thrill from the feel of his host's terror. He wondered what it would be like to feel that terror from every living thing around him. He grinned. Soon he would find out.

* * *

Ryou had lost track of time. He had been in hell for what seemed like weeks, years, decades. Over and over he saw the same scenes, horrific visions of a past he had long forgotten. For brief, tantalizing moments they would be good visions. Family, love, fun. A mother would hand him a piece of fruit with a smile. A little sister would beg him to take her to the waterfront so that she could play with her friends. A father would clean his knee after he fell and scraped it. Then those scenes would be replaced with pain and horror. A mother would fall, unconscious, into the big pot of molten metal. A sister would follow her, awake and screaming. A father would be cut down trying to fight the pharaoh's soldiers.

Or a mother and a sister would be thrown onto the road to lie there, broken and bleeding, as the car continued to tumble out of control. A father would disappear from his life in his grief, putting more and more time into his work until Ryou was living practically on his own. This was the hardest part for him. The memories of two separate lives clashed and sparred in his head, each struggling for domination. Every time he tried to calm down and sort it all out, the differences in the lives he had led would end up overwhelming him, beginning the cycle again. Was he this ruthless thief king, so bent on revenge that he would so far as to make a pact with a demon? Or was he the shy, polite boy who had befriended the Pharaoh's vessel? Did he want to strike out at everything and share his pain with the world? Did he want nothing more than to live a quiet life with his friends? The two wildly different aspects of his personality struggled against each other, leaving him helpless. Unable to do anything except watch as the terrible memories continued to play out again and again before his eyes.

Every now and then, he felt the presence of his tormenter, the demon who commanded his body and kept him hostage in this hell. It was silent, but it was there. Sneering. Laughing. Enjoying every second of Ryou's pain. It was always there, in the background, but sometimes it became more acute, as if Zorc was actually bothering to pay attention.

He felt it again now, even as he watched his father (_first father_) being cut down by the pharaoh's soldiers. The ancient spirit was pleased, and then he faded to the background again. Ryou felt disgust and wondered why.

_I summoned him here. I gave him control._

It was his first coherent thought since he had been thrust in here. Ryou grabbed it, repeated it, focused on it, trying to force the memories, if not away, then to the side.

_I summoned him here. I gave him control._

_I summoned him here. I gave him control._

_I summoned him here. I gave him control._

…_Why?_

But he knew the answer to that. The side of him that had been the king of thieves in Egypt was shouting it with rage and determination.

_Revenge._

Revenge against the one who had killed his family. The Pharaoh.

Yugi. His best friend.

The cycle threatened to grip him again as his emotions diverged. Ryou didn't let them this time. He went back to his mantra, repeating it in his mind as the scene in front of him blurred back into the car crash that had claimed his mother and Amane.

_I summoned him here. I gave him control._

_I summoned him here. I gave him control._

…_I don't want him anymore._

That thought brought a measure of resolution to his mind. It was something both sides of himself instantly and irrevocably agreed on. The shy, polite teen had been tortured by this ancient spirit since childhood. The thief king had been thrown aside and killed when Zorc deemed him useless. Never mind that he had been the one to summon the demon and unleash it on the world. Or maybe that did matter. Maybe, since Ryou was the one to free him, Ryou would have to be the one to vanquish him. So be it. First he had to break free himself.

It was not so easy, though. Only that matter had been settled; on everything else, his memories continued to war. Ryou had some ammunition now, however. He had a goal to work for. As confusing, as terrifying as his dilemma was, he knew he could overcome it. Knew it with the certainty of a confident, ruthless thief.

The memory cycle started over, to a small village on the banks of an oasis in the desert. Ryou took it in, absorbed it, accepted it. It was a part of himself. All of it was.

With that thought in mind, he began building the strength to fight back.


	6. Chapter 6

I had a great month-long saga with AT&T trying to get internet installed in my new place, but I prevailed in the end! Here's a new chapter for celebration. I did a lot more PoV switching in this one than normal, sorry about that. Also, there was a question about Bill having retired from Gringott's. I don't know if he did or not; I'd have to go back and reread the seventh book. I'm inclined to say that he didn't though, or that it was a temporary thing. The man's gotta have a job to support his family after all. Plus, it works well in my fanfic. :) At any rate, please enjoy and leave a review. I still love you all.

Chapter 6

The demon was watching again. Ryou sensed his silent, mocking laughter. It loved to take a dip into this hell, to bathe in the turmoil of his mind. That was fine. Ryou let his mind stay in turmoil until the smirking presence faded. Once it was gone, he took a firmer grip on his emotions. He couldn't banish the memories that constantly replayed around him—this was still his prison after all. However, they no longer affected him quite as strongly as they had at first. They still hurt, hurt worse and deeper than he would have thought possible, but they no longer divided him.

Ryou had decided that he wanted to get rid of Zorc. To do that, he first had to put himself back together. It was no easy task. He had been who he once was for much longer, but he was more familiar and comfortable with who he was now.

Wasn't he?

Ryou wasn't so sure anymore. The longer he was stuck here, seeing these old memories, feeling the rage and pain of the Egyptian thief, the more it felt…normal.

That scared him.

He didn't let that fear deter him. It was that other side of him that felt it. And in the end, both sides were really…him. He was afraid of nothing more than himself. This was the first roadblock he had to hurdle, and he did.

He just accepted it.

He was a ruthless, revenge-bent thief who had watched his whole family—his whole _village_—butchered by the Pharaoh's soldiers. He accepted it. He was a teenager who had been plagued by a strange spirit from the time he was little, who now wanted nothing more than friendship. He accepted it. The spirit was his own fault, and it had put his precious friends in danger more times than he could count. He accepted it.

It was his responsibility to banish Zorc to where he belonged. He accepted it.

The turmoil died. In its place, rage remained. The rage of the thief. The rage of Ryou Bakura. This time, however, it wasn't directed at the Pharaoh. He directed all his fury at the demon that held him prisoner.

_Zorc will pay. For everything._

The walls of his prison began to weaken.

* * *

Bakura crouched outside the wall around the opulent grounds that had become the Tomb Keepers' residence after leaving their lightless crypts. He would have preferred to wait until dark, but he was impatient. After waiting for so long, with the Pharaoh at last gone to the underworld where he could no longer interfere, his goal was within reach. All he needed were the Items and the underworld tablet. No more tricks, no more games. No more planning or scheming or watching his back. There was nothing standing between him and the world except a wall, a few guards, and Malik.

He was not the least bit worried about the wall, or any other security measures that might be in place. Humans had always overrated their ability to protect themselves, and having more advanced technology made little difference. A bit of shadow magic trumped it all. Then same went for the guards: it was simplicity itself to sneak around them. He would rather not kill them because bodies might be discovered too soon, raising an alarm, but he would if he had to.

Malik was another matter. He would have to be careful about Malik. The young Egyptian had command of the Millennium Rod, and he had a decent amount of power. Coupled with his post-Battle City allegiance to the Pharaoh, he would present a real problem if he discovered Bakura and realized that he wasn't really Bakura.

Of course, if he found the Millennium Items, then it wouldn't matter if Malik fought him or not. Bakura would have the upper hand. He smiled to himself as the guards made another rhythmic sweep of the grounds. The pattern was too easy; he would be able to evade them without a problem. He had already checked on Ryou; he was still locked safely away in agony in his soul room. _How_ that thief had become such a weakling boy was beyond him.

The guards reached the edge of the wall and passed around a corner. Bakura jumped up to the top of the wall and dropped silently on the other side.

* * *

Bill was at the Egyptian Ministry at five in the afternoon as he promised. That was disconcerting to Harry, who had just woken up early in the morning in Japan ten minutes ago. If Kingsley felt any effects from the time shift, he didn't show it.

"Sleep well?" Bill asked them with a grin, shaking hands with each in turn.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Er, dig well?"

Bill laughed. "Exceptionally. We might be able to finish early and go back to England for a while. That sure would make Fleur happy."

"She's doing well, then?" Kingsley asked.

"Better than well." Bill's grin somehow widened. "She's pregnant."

Harry felt a thrill of joy at the news. "Really? That's great, Bill!"

"Yeah, I know. It's another reason to get through here, too. Neither of us wants the baby to be born in Egypt. But we can talk about this later; you've still got a murderer to catch."

"Right," Harry said as Bill started leading them through the Ministry. Like the one in Tokyo, the Egyptian Ministry of Magic was aboveground, this time in a nondescript building that was surrounded by a chain link fence covered with signs proclaiming it condemned in Arabic, English, and a few other languages Harry didn't recognize. No one seemed to notice when Bill led them outside and through a gate to slip into the crowd. It was brutally hot.

"I contacted the Tomb Keepers just before you arrived, and Ishizu agreed to an audience," Bill told them as he tried to wave down a taxi. "Unfortunately, they're Muggles, and they live quite a way out of town, so we have to get there the conventional Muggle way. Still, getting to meet any of the Tomb Keepers on good terms is a rare thing. I don't see how you get so lucky, Harry."

Harry thought that he wasn't always so lucky; in the past he had had Dumbledore to thank for most of his so-called "luck" (and at one point Felix Felicis). This time was an exception, but he didn't say so to Bill. He had finally succeeded in getting them a taxi and was waving Harry and Kingsley in.

"Maybe your luck will lead us right to Ryou Bakura," Kingsley commented as Bill gave directions to the driver.

"It has been. And always three steps behind," Harry replied gloomily.

* * *

The inside of the mansion was as quiet as a tomb. Bakura wondered why anyone would need so much space to live in. Even with servants, the Ishtars' residence was large enough that most parts were utterly empty most of the time. Many rooms didn't even seem to have a purpose. Bakura decided that he would have a place at least as big as this, but filled with people. Screaming, crying people.

He was also now past the electronic security measures, so he had abandoned most of his sneaking. He simply strode the halls now, every once in a while ducking into a hiding place as a servant walked by. So far he hadn't seen any of the Ishtars. That was fine by him.

Neither had he found any trace of the Millennium Items. That irked him. Had Malik been enough of a fool to leave them buried after all? He didn't want to think he had given a human more credit than he deserved.

He found a staircase and ran up it. The hall at the top was more spartan in décor than was the ground floor, but he also saw that there were a few ancient artifacts on display. Opening the door to the nearest room, he looked inside and grinned. He was on the right track; the room was filled with artifacts. The Millennium Items, if they were here, would most likely be somewhere in this section of the mansion. It was all too easy.

Bakura sensed no more security measures, so he strolled through the room, taking his time as he studied the jars, jewelry, and other things that were stored here. On the walls were massive blocks of stone that had been taken from the walls of the Tomb Keepers' ancestral home. Bakura slowed down to read some of them.

Most detailed the history of the Egyptian shadow games, starting with a time long before Atem's father ordered the creation of the Millennium Items. It was a much weaker magic then, unable to draw power from the magic of the underworld. That changed quickly when Aknadin found the book of dark alchemy and used its secrets to make the Items. Bakura smirked when he got to a hanging that showed the great battle between the Pharaoh and his priests and the invaders that plagued them. It was the first real use of the Millennium Items, and through the Ring he had witnessed every glorious, bloody minute. Even back then, from the moment of its creation, the Millennium Ring had belonged to him.

However, it wasn't here. Bakura reached the end of the room and turned back to the door. As he reached it, he heard footsteps in the hall outside. He closed the door as quickly and silently as possible, and then he waited beside it. Outside, the footsteps came closer, and then passed by. Bakura waited a few more minutes to make sure whoever it was didn't come back, and then he reopened the door a crack and peered out.

The hall was empty again, so he slipped out and continued over to the next door. In that room, he struck gold.

There, in a glass case against the far wall, were the Millennium Items. All seven of them.

Other relics lined the walls of the room as well, but Bakura cared nothing for them. He didn't even register their existence. His eyes remained fixed on the precious Items as he walked slowly toward them. Malik had dug them up after all, and apparently thought they were safe here, in this house, in a glass case without even an alarm. He should have known that the guards and the walls would be no match for someone who truly wanted power such as this.

He lifted his fist and brought it crashing down on the top of the case, not caring how the glass bit into his host's skin as it shattered. Blood dripped down, the bright red contrasting against the gold, and he thought it was lovely. He held the hand there for a few moments, and then he dug the annoying splinters out. He would have to remember to wrap it soon; it would do no good if his host bled to death.

With trembling fingers he reached out for the Ring, anticipating its smooth cool metal against his chest, the feel of its dark power coursing through him, amplifying and adding to the power he already possessed. Soon he would have so much more…

He frowned as he picked the Ring up. Its power was muted. In fact, it almost wasn't really there. Bakura could work with it, for sure, and it would add to what he could already do, but for all intents and purposes, the Millennium Ring had lost its dark seething energy.

Bakura didn't drop it, but he reached out with his other hand and picked up the rest of the Items in turn, leaving bloody handprints smeared on them all. They felt the same as the Ring: the power was there, but the intensity was not. He doubted that normal humans like Malik or Ishizu would realize there was anything left in them at all. What could be the cause of this?

Putting the Ring around his neck, Bakura finally looked over the rest of the room. The underworld tablet wasn't here, and he felt that it wouldn't be anywhere else in the mansion, either. It would have taken more of an effort to move, and there wasn't much point since it only functioned properly with the Millennium Items, so Malik must have elected to leave it behind. Bakura had to find it. Perhaps there he would get the answer to this new mystery.

He turned and took two steps toward the door before he froze in place. A shadow moved in the hall outside, and then Malik stepped into the room, also freezing. His eyes went wide, and the two stared at each other for many seconds before he spoke. "Bakura-kun?"

In that instant, Ryou struck.

* * *

It was a sudden thing, a split second of weakness. The demon was shocked (or stunned or something close, Ryou wasn't quite sure), and the iron walls of his prison weakened ever so slightly. Not long ago, it wouldn't have mattered; it would have still been more than enough to keep the teen in his place. Now, however, was a different story.

Now, Ryou had a reserve of rage that enabled him to burst through those walls in that split second of weakness. It wasn't easy, and for an instant he thought it wouldn't be possible, but then he broke through. Suddenly, just like that, he was in control of himself, and the demon was the one locked behind prison walls.

Ryou blinked. He was in a place he didn't recognize, but he knew all too well the person standing in front of him. Malik looked shocked, but he also looked tense, as if he were just waiting for the right trigger to fight. Around them were piles of ancient Egyptian artifacts. Around his neck was an all-too-familiar weight. In his hand sharp pain throbbed. It seemed that the demon's habits had changed not at all.

He gasped and put a hand to his head. The demon was already fighting back. Ryou knew he didn't have much time to spare.

"Yugi called me," Malik said in a wary tone. "He said you might show up here. I don't really believe that Zorc could be back, but I don't like the way you managed to slip this far past our defenses."

Ryou was glad that Malik had skipped past all formalities and hedging. It would have wasted the precious little time he had. "He is back," he told Malik. The Ring around his neck trembled as another lance of pain stabbed through his head. Ryou groaned through gritted teeth and fought back. _You're not going to use me again. I won't let you._

He thought he could hear laughter in return.

Malik took a hesitant step forward. "Are you okay?"

Ryou backed up to keep the distance between them and held out a hand. "He is back," he said again. "And I can't hold him back for long. Malik, you have to help me. He…he wants…" He doubled over against the rise of pain in his head. "Malik, tell me the underworld tablet isn't here!"

"It doesn't matter where it's at." Malik folded his arms with an expression on his face that was caught somewhere between gloating and concern. "The tablet's broken. It can't open the door to the underworld anymore. Since the magic of the Millennium Items was tied to it, they've also lost their power." He leaned forward slightly. "So if you can hear me right now, Zorc, however you've managed to come back, it's for nothing. You can't get the power you want."

Ryou felt such absolute glee, the joy of a thief king seeing his enemy thwarted, that he managed to push Zorc back into his mind a little more. The pain lessened, and he straightened with a surprised chuckle. "I don't think he can hear you," he said in wonder. "I think I'm keeping him completely trapped, like he always keeps me."

Malik began to grin, but it faded quickly as suspicion began to bloom. "You are really you, aren't you?" he asked.

"Of course I'm me," Ryou said with another laugh.

Malik said nothing else. Alarm crossed his face, and he began to back up. Ryou felt confused, and then he realized that he wasn't acting quite normal. Malik thought he was actually Zorc because he wasn't acting quite like himself. He faltered then, the shy teenager surfacing in a moment of self-doubt.

It was enough for Zorc to seize control once again.

* * *

Malik backed up again as Ryou shrieked and clawed at his head, his hair getting streaked with red from the blood on his hand. He felt more powerless than he had been since the death of his father. At first, when Yugi had called him and told him about the visit from the supposed wizards, he had been dubious about the entire story. Maybe some kid from England had just wanted revenge on Ryou for what the Ring's spirit had done. Maybe Ryou had run away, or that kid had done something to him. He didn't really believe it was possible for Zorc to be back, and neither did he believe anything those 'wizard' people had to say.

But now Ryou was here, and he was acting strange to say the least. He wasn't acting like the Ryou he remembered at all. He never laughed in a bad situation. He had no tolerance of pain; he wouldn't be ignoring his wounded hand like this. And he never, ever had the strength to wrest control of his own body from the spirit.

Malik was almost sure that this was, in fact, Zorc.

But why would Zorc tell him—tell anyone—that he was back?

That alone gave him pause and made him wonder if it really was Ryou standing in front of him, screaming in pain. He stepped forward and raised a hand before hesitating. What could he possibly do to help? Without the Millennium Rod, he was powerless.

Ryou abruptly went silent. He straightened, and then he grinned at Malik with a manic gleam in his eye that the Egyptian knew too well.

"You should have listened to my landlord," he said.

There was no doubt now. Malik knew what stood in front of him. He had once shared Ryou's body with that spirit, and he knew how cruel and ruthless it could be.

He also knew that if the spirit still possessed magic, he was screwed.

He lunged for the doorway, eager to get out and at least draw Bakura away from the rest of the Millennium Items. Behind him, the spirit let out a peal of bone-chilling laughter as he took up the chase. The sound of it made the hairs on his arms and neck stand on end. It was as if Bakura was just toying with him, having a little fun before he got down to business. Malik didn't want to stick around and find out what that business was. He sprinted down the hall at top speed until one wall ended at a balcony. There was a grand staircase leading into the main foyer here, and Malik spun to run down it so fast that he nearly flew into open air.

He could see Ishizu and Rishid at the bottom, greeting some guests who were just walking in. Behind him, he could feel the chill threads of air that heralded the arrival of shadow magic.

"No!" he yelled, stumbling down the steps. "Ishizu, don't let anyone in!"

* * *

The taxi ride was uneventful, though Kingsley didn't look the least bit comfortable in it. Harry would have found that funny if he wasn't so worried about getting the Tomb Keepers to believe and help him. Bill seemed to think it was a long shot at best, but he also said that Ishizu Ishtar was a level-headed woman who would at least listen to them. "Be glad we're not talking to her little brother," he had said on the drive to their mansion. "I've heard stories about him."

Harry wanted to ask what kind of stories, but he was distracted by the view of the pyramids as the taxi drove out of Cairo. Now, as they stepped out of the car in front of a large, beautiful mansion surrounded by guards, he hoped that this little brother wasn't around. Convincing Ishizu that she might have a body-snatching murderer hanging around would be hard enough.

"Don't look so nervous," Bill said as they ascended the steps to the main doors. "I've talked to Ishizu before. She doesn't bite."

"Maybe you shouldn't be nervous," Harry replied. He had noticed how antsy Bill seemed the whole ride over.

Bill grinned. "I can't help it. It's a rare treat just to talk to one of the Tomb Keepers. No one's ever come to their house before that I know of. I bet they have lots of stuff in here."

"Lots of magical artifacts?" Kingsley queried with a raised eyebrow. The Egyptian Ministry would know it if they did, wouldn't they?"

"Not necessarily." Bill was about to say more, but then they reached the top of the steps and the doors opened. A man and woman, both dressed in the traditional garb of the desert, waited for them just inside.

The woman looked them all over with cool blue eyes. "I am Ishizu Ishtar," she announced. "Welcome to my home."

"It's an honor, Miss Ishtar," Bill told her.

Ishizu gave him the briefest of smiles as she backed up enough to let them step in. "The honor is mine, Mr. Weasley. This is my elder brother, Rishid."

Bill nodded a greeting to the tall, stern-looking man behind her. "My friends, Harry Potter and Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Welcome," she said to them, bowing her head. "Mr. Weasley has told me that you wish to know about the Millennium Items." Her cool eyes studied them both in turn. "I look forward to hearing how you came to know of them."

If this was meeting the Tomb Keeper clan on good terms, Harry thought he would hate to see their bad side. Ishizu didn't look the least bit happy that knowledge of the Millennium Items had reached these people whom she didn't know. "It's a long story," he replied. "However, I want you to know that we have no intention of—"

Just then, a boy about his age flew down the stairs so fast that Harry was sure he would simply tumble head over feet at any second. He screamed something in Arabic that made Ishizu turn his way with a severe frown, but Harry didn't get a chance to ask what he said. His attention was riveted on the white-haired boy that skidded around the corner and down the stairs just after him.

The boy exuded an aura of Dark Magic so powerful it made Harry's scalp prickle from clear across the room. He didn't think he had felt anything like it before, even around Voldemort.

He pulled out his wand as the first boy (Ishizu's notorious brother, he assumed) made it down the stairs without injury and rushed toward them with his hands outstretched. Beside him, Bill and Kingsley were doing the same. Harry didn't see any wand in the white-haired boy's hand, but his eyes fell on the golden pendant around the boy's neck. On impulse, he pointed his wand at it and yelled, "Accio!"

The boy skidded to a stop in the middle of the room, a look of surprise on his face as the pendant's cord snapped and it flew to Harry's waiting hand. Kingsley and Bill took the opportunity to spin a web of blueish light around him, trapping him in the middle. Ishizu's brother barely made it out of the way as he scrambled for the others. Together, the Ishtars backed up and watched with wide eyes as the wizards went about their work.

As for the white-haired boy, he straightened up and watched with a curious look on his face as Bill and Kingsley finished caging him in. The Dark Magic aura around him had faded somewhat, but Harry could still feel it, especially when the boy turned his dark eyes toward him and the relic he held. Harry pointed his wand at his chest, ready to counter anything he might throw at his cage or at them.

The boy's mouth uplifted in a small sneer.

And then he simply vanished.


	7. Chapter 7

No, I'm not dead. I'm just lazy. However, the internet at work has been on the fritz, and since that distraction disappeared I've been doing a lot more writing. Maybe you should pray that work internet stays on the fritz. :P Just note that I'm going back to writing my original story for a little while, so as usual I can't promise a quick update. Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, and I'm sorry that I still haven't found an alternative to the ugly gray lines for scene dividers.

Chapter 7

Harry stood frozen for several seconds, and then he lowered his wand slowly as he looked around at Kingsley and Bill. Their confused expressions mirrored his own. They too lowered their wands, letting the magical web fade into nothing.

"Odd," Kingsley said.

"Where'd he go?" Harry asked.

"Good question," Bill replied, looking at the Ishtars.

Harry turned to them as well. Ishizu and Rishid looked shocked, but the younger one wore a grim expression. He stepped forward, holding out his hand. "The Ring," he said in only slightly accented English. "Give it to me."

"What, this?" Harry looked down at the pendant he had taken from Bakura, and he clutched it tighter. "Why? What is it?"

"Something that is under our protection." The boy's voice held the edge of a threat.

Harry didn't back down. "You seem to be doing a great job," he said.

The boy bristled and stepped forward, but Rishid put a hand on his shoulder. "Malik," he said quietly. "Now is not the best time."

Malik rounded on him, switching back into Arabic. "In case you didn't notice, that was Bakura who just ran through here and disappeared. Bakura, with the Millennium Ring. That alone means trouble enough without dragging some random strangers into our affairs."

"Not so random," Ishizu said sharply. "These people have been tracking Bakura for several days now. Or more precisely, the spirit that is within Bakura. They are a part of this already, and they have come for our help." She stopped, and then added, "And we may need theirs."

With no answer coming from Malik other than a glower, she then turned to the baffled wizards. "Please excuse my brother. He is too used to giving orders to others—" (at this, Malik's expression darkened further) "—and we are all protective of the Millennium Items we hold in our care."

"Millennium…" Harry glanced down at the pendant again and back at her. "_This_ is a Millennium Item?"

"The Millennium Ring," Malik stated from behind Ishizu. "It was _his_ before, and as long as you hold it, he will come after you."

"And that was Ryou Bakura, wasn't it?" Harry replied. "Good, then. It's my job to catch him, and it'll be easier if he comes for me."

"You don't even know what you're dealing with—"

"I'd say some pretty powerful magic," Harry cut him off. "Which is nothing I haven't dealt with before."

Malik snapped his mouth closed with a startled look. Ishizu glanced back and forth between them and then asked, "Are you quite done?"

Her question was aimed at Malik, but it was Harry who answered. "I apologize, Miss Ishtar. It's not our intention to start a fight with you or your family. We came for help and information, that is all."

"Of course," Ishizu said with a nod. "If you will come this way, we can all have a seat and be comfortable while you tell us what you know. You may even hold on to that, if you wish." She gestured at the Millennium Ring.

Harry nodded and followed her, Malik, and Rishid into a large parlor to the left. "Well done," he heard Kingsley whisper behind him as they walked. Once in the parlor (Bill was quite taken in by the artifacts on display in the corners and on the mantelpiece), they settled into an assortment of couches and chairs pulled into a circle around a coffee table. Malik, however, leaned against the wall behind Rishid and crossed his arms, his scowl never leaving his face. Ishizu gave orders to a servant who was waiting just beside the door, and he bowed and left. "Now," she said, folding her hands in her lap. "To begin with, I must ask a question. Was that magic you did earlier against Bakura?"

Harry glanced at Kingsley uncertainly. He was sure that they had already broken the International Statute of Secrecy too many times for it to matter, but he didn't know if the Minister of Magic would agree.

Fortunately, Kingsley sat forward and took the initiative. "It was," he said. "We are wizards. Does this surprise you?"

"Hardly." Ishizu looked at each of them in turn. "The Millennium Items, which our family has kept in our care for thousands of years, are magical artifacts from a time when wizards were prominent advisers in the pharaoh's court. It would be foolish of me to believe that magic has simply died out in the intervening time, especially since the Items are obviously still active. What surprises me is that we have not run into wizards before."

"We try to keep to ourselves," Bill told her. "As you and your family are known to do."

Ishizu gave him a small smile. "Of course you are right. However, I would have thought that our previous trouble with the Millennium Items would have caught the attention of some of you wizards."

"It might have, but we wouldn't know about it," Kingsley said. "Unless you had this trouble in Britain."

"It was in Japan mostly," Malik piped up. "And it's none of your business."

"If it's connected to my murder case, then it is my business," Harry shot back. Kingsley put a hand on his shoulder in warning, and he swallowed the rest of his retort. "The boy we talked to in Japan mentioned some trouble," he said instead. "Something about a spirit in his Millennium Puzzle fighting against one that inhabited this Ring." He hefted the Millennium Ring, which glinted innocently back at him.

"He told you about that?" Malik asked, sounding shocked.

"Well, yes."

"Then we should trust his judgment," Ishizu said, cutting across whatever retort Malik was starting. She cast a glare over her shoulder at him and spoke quietly in Arabic. "If you insist on doing nothing but antagonizing these people, then leave, brother. We have quite enough to deal with without your attitude."

Malik didn't move, but he also kept quiet. Ishizu turned back to the wizards. "How much did Yugi tell you about the Millennium Items and their spirits?" she asked.

"Not much more than I've told you," Harry replied, keeping a wary eye on Malik as he spoke. "He said something about his spirit being a pharaoh, and that the pharaoh was fighting a demon."

"You say this as if such magic is unfamiliar to you," Ishizu noted.

"Well, I'm familiar with possession and Horcruxes, but this sounds like neither," he told her. "It must be some spell or form of magic that was lost over time."

"Not lost," Malik said, prompting another warning look from his sister. However, his tone had lost its aggressive edge, and his expression as he looked at the three wizards was serious, but not angry. "Hidden. Yugi's pharaoh sealed away the secrets of the Millennium Items' magic when he locked his soul in that Puzzle, and for good reason. That magic is capable of destroying the world."

The wizards exchanged dubious looks. "That is quite a proclamation," Kingsley said.

"Nonetheless, it is true," Ishizu said. "Our clan has been the keeper of these secrets for three thousand years, waiting for the time when the pharaoh would need them again."

"And that time is now?" Harry asked.

"That time is past," Malik said. "Six months ago. All the magic should be gone from the Millennium Items now."

"But it's not?"

"It is," Ishizu said. "Or it was. However, the fact that Ryou Bakura was just here…" She cast an uncertain glance back at Malik.

He shook his head and shrugged. "I don't know. I've seen no indication that any of the Items have power left in them at all, but that doesn't mean anything. They could still have some minute bit of power that I can't detect, or they could have all their power, and I just can't access it. Or it's possible that Zorc exists outside the power of the Items, and he's looking for a way to restore it. I just don't know anymore."

"If that really was Zorc," Rishid said.

Malik scoffed at him. "You really think Ryou would attack me? Or anyone, for that matter?"

"I think we should keep all possibilities in mind," Rishid replied calmly. "He would not be the first good person I have seen twisted by a Millennium Item."

Malik's face reddened, and he looked away.

"I don't think that is the case," Harry said before the silence could get too uncomfortable. "I got into this because of a murder that happened in England while Ryou Bakura was in Japan. I tracked the murderer to Bakura's apartment, where I found that he had no memory for the last six months. I noticed you said that your trouble ended six months ago. Can we really believe that that is a coincidence, especially with Bakura's disappearance? Yugi believes that Bakura is possessed by…something, and that something is my murderer. Given the evidence, I'm inclined to agree with him. Now, whether or not he has decided to help this something is up for debate."

"No." Malik shook his head. "No, I don't think so. He talked to me when I found him upstairs. He…didn't seem the same, but I'm positive that he's not in league with Zorc."

Harry sat forward. "Different? Different how?"

"How would you know?" Malik shot back. "You've never even met him."

"You're right, and I only half understand everything that's being happening up until now," Harry responded. "So could you _please_ just tell me everything about these Millennium Items and their spirits? Then maybe we could make some progress on finding Bakura and stopping whatever he or his possessor or whatever has planned." He had to struggle to keep his voice under control.

Ishizu looked at Rishid, who gave her a nod, and then back at Malik, who looked the other way. "Mr. Potter is right," she said to him. "They should know the full story, Malik."

"So tell it," he replied, still keeping his gaze fixed at the wall.

"I believe you could tell it better than I," she said. "You were much more involved."

Malik scowled at her. "Fine," he said, coming forward two steps. "But you might as well settle in. This is a long tale, and I don't want interruptions or questions of believability."

* * *

The demon was laughing as he picked his way out of the mansion and its surrounding grounds. Those people were fools, more so even than the Clan Keepers brood. It had surprised him that anyone without a Millennium Item could use magic in this modern age, but clearly they didn't know much about it. All he had to do was call on his power to make himself invisible, and they assumed that he was completely gone. They dropped all their defenses and allowed him to walk right away. Not even Mahado was so foolish.

But he could not gloat over it for long. Malik knew he had returned now, and would be after him. Maybe he would even have help from those magic using fools, although the demon was not the least bit worried about them. The only thing that really worried him at the moment was his landlord.

As he walked to the main road that led to the Ishtar residence, he probed at Ryou's mind, now securely trapped within him.

Trapped, but not overwhelmed. The little fool laughed at him from behind iron-hard defenses. He was not unconscious, the way the demon usually kept him, nor was his mind an open book. Whatever he said to Malik in that moment he had managed to take over, it stayed between him and Malik. The demon could not access the memory.

He growled. Since when had the torn up little thief had such willpower? If anything, he should still be wallowing in pits of despair over finding out about his true past. He had been, right up until the moment he had taken his body back. It hadn't been a mistake to show all that to him, had it?

Of course not. Zorc did not make mistakes.

With the mansion now out of sight, he dropped his invisibility. Hopefully some passerby would be foolish enough to stop and give him a lift. It would be so much easier than walking all the way down the Nile River to the pharaoh's old tomb. Even though he had lost his Ring (and that was only temporary, he would get it back along with the rest), he had to find the underworld tablet. With that in his possession, everything else would become so much easier.

For some reason, another peal of laughter rang through his mind from behind Ryou's walls.

* * *

It took an hour for Malik to tell the tale of the Millennium Items. He told it bluntly, not bothering to hide his own complicity. He skated over some of Yugi's parts since he knew little about what transpired at Duelist Kingdom beyond Yugi's victory and Bakura's theft of the Millennium Eye, and less about the events in the world of the pharaoh's memory. Whatever happened there, Yugi and his group of friends had kept it to themselves. Sometime in the middle of the telling, the servant came back in with a tray of food, and they all ate dinner there in the parlor while Malik continued talking.

"Now you know as much as we do," he said at last, the setting sun backlighting him through the window. "We dug out the Millennium Items after Yugi left for fear that they might still hold their magic and that someone else might find them and make use of it. However, until now, it seemed that they had lost all their power. The underworld tablet we left in the tomb, since it is broken and useless."

"Are you so sure of that?" Kingsley asked. "This thing, from what I gather, can open a portal to death itself. It must possess powerful magic, which is not so easy to get rid of."

"I know, but the Items' magic is tied to it as well, and they have lost it," Malik said, the annoyed edge creeping back into his voice.

"But you don't know that now," Harry pointed out. "Didn't you already say that Zorc shouldn't exist without these Items' magic? So he shouldn't exist without the magic of this tablet either."

"Shouldn't," Malik snapped. "But he could."

"Don't start this again," Ishizu interrupted, glaring at her brother.

Malik closed his mouth and stepped back to the wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms.

"Now," she continued. "I think you have a point, Mr. Potter, and that we should go back to the pharaoh's tomb to check on the tablet. This much I know." She raised her voice to cut off Malik's objection. "Whether or not there is magic left in that tablet, Zorc will go to it. Even if he does not, my brother was right before. He will come after you to get back that Ring, and he will not be happy that you took it."

Harry felt a chill race down his spine as Ishizu looked at him. After all he had just heard, he almost wished that Voldemort was the one hunting him again. Voldemort, for all his power and all his Horcruxes, was only human in the end. He swallowed to relieve the dryness in his throat and said, "Okay. Where is this tomb?"

"Not in the Valley of the Kings where most of the pharaohs were buried," Ishizu said. "His tomb was put in a secret place in the south, and the Millennium Puzzle was buried with him. It will take us at least two hours to drive there."

Of them all, only Bill looked excited at the prospect of poking around an ancient tomb at night with a demon possibly joining them.

"Er," Harry said. "Is it possible that we could wait until morning? From all indications, Bakura, or Zorc, can't use magic to travel. He has to get around with conventional means. So unless he finds a car or something, he won't be getting to the tomb anytime soon."

"All the more reason for us to go tonight and beat him there," Rishid said.

"Exactly." Ishizu looked around at everyone in turn. "If there are no more objections, I shall inform the chauffeur that we will be leaving shortly."

No one spoke, and she got up and left, with Rishid joining her.

"Just my kind of adventure," Bill said with a grin, rubbing his hands.

"Great, then you can take the lead," Harry told him, and he laughed.

"That I will, if you're so scared," he said, and then he got up and wandered over to the fireplace to inspect the artifacts displayed on the mantle.

Harry turned to Kingsley with a pained look, but the Minister only said, "You've handled this very well so far," and went to join the eldest Weasley.

"An understatement."

Harry jumped and looked around to find that Malik had walked up to him. The younger man still had his arms crossed as he stared down at Harry with a scowl. "I'm not entirely sure you believe me. I know you understand the concept of magic, but anyone would be skeptical about existence of a door to the underworld."

An image came unbidden into Harry's mind. He saw Sirius again, in his last few seconds of life, falling through a curtain in the heart of the Department of Mysteries. "I believe it," he said around the lump in his throat. "Believe it or not, such a door is not so unusual. Besides that, why would you say such things about yourself if they weren't true?"

Malik huffed and sat down in the seat Ishizu had vacated. "I'm certainly not proud of what I did, but what happened, happened, and I can't change it. In the end, I might have even helped Atem become strong enough to face Zorc again. I like to think that, anyway." He shifted forward. "What about you? Think you can handle this? It's become more than a simple murder investigation now, and if you want to back out—"

"No," Harry interrupted. "No, not if I can help. This might be ancient stuff we're dealing with, but I still know more about magic than you. Besides, this isn't the first threat I've had to deal with."

"Maybe. Or maybe you're in over your head and don't want to admit it," Malik replied. "This is the greatest threat you will ever know."

Ishizu came in just as Harry was about to reply that Malik had no idea what he had faced before. "We're set to leave," she announced. "Is everyone ready?"

* * *

Not ten minutes had passed before someone had slowed down and offered the demon a ride. The man was a little unhappy to hear that he wanted to go so far south, but the promise of payment placated him, and so the demon a long drive listening to the man ramble about his family, his job, and every other inane thing that crossed his mind.

"Here we are," he said cheerfully two hours later, pulling to the side of the road. The water of the Nile River shimmered in the moonlight to their left, with a dock jutting out and a building beside it. That was how the Ishtars had brought Yugi and Atem to their fated duel six months ago; that much the demon had been able to glean from Ryou's memory before this sudden lockdown. He sneered silently. What a stupid and slow way to travel.

"Hey," the driver prompted. "What about my payment, eh?"

The demon pulled out a dagger and slit the man's throat. "You do not have to be here to see the end," he said, smiling into the man's bulging eyes and shocked expression. Then he opened the door and climbed out of the car. The sound of the dying man's gurgles followed him out, and he left the door open to savor them until they faded away. "Pathetic," he murmured, walking across the road and finding the hint of a trail that lead into the rocky hills beyond. He was grateful that Ryou had accompanied his friends to the last duel, otherwise the demon would not know where to find the tomb. The Tomb Keepers had done their job well over the year. Their mistake had been to think that he could be destroyed.

The demon smirked to himself as he found the opening that the Ishtars had dug out. That had been everyone's mistake.

The tomb itself didn't exist anymore. The cave-in had been complete, with only the excavation tunnels to mark that anything had been there at all. These were well-made and not as small as usual; there were few places where he had to crouch or even duck his head. No doubt Rishid had overseen the creation of these tunnels. He would have made sure they were as safe as possible for his precious adoptive siblings.

There was no light, but the demon needed none. He could see in the dark just as well as in the light. Several times he had to backtrack when he ran into dead ends, but he could tell he was making good progress as he went deeper underground.

Then, after maybe an hour of picking his way through the maze, the tunnel opened into a small room, with the remnants of an elaborate golden door at the far end. It was the pharaoh's burial room, with the door to the underworld now nothing more than a fancy wall. In the middle of the room was a hole where the Ishtars had dug to find the Millennium Items, but he ignored that. All his attention was centered on the tablet that rested by the golden door.

Or rather, what was left of it. The underworld tablet lay in several great, shattered chunks. Much of the dust surrounding it had come from the stone itself, and a great piece of it was simply missing.

It was broken. Broken and useless. The demon dropped to his knees, screaming in outrage.

From behind his mental walls, the thief shrieked with laughter.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you to all for the wonderful reviews. I was hoping for a little more action in this chapter, but it didn't turn out that way. The next chapter, however, looks to be explosive. Hopefully I'll be more excited about writing it and therefore have it up in a more timely manner. Until then, enjoy!

Chapter 8

The ride to the pharaoh's tomb was an uncomfortable one for Harry, who had ended up stuck in the backseat between Malik (who was growing increasingly sullen and snappish) and Bill (who kept trying to ask Malik about some of the treasures they had on display in the Ishtar mansion). Ishizu and Kingsley, who sat across from them, seemed content to listen in with amusement, while Rishid drove at speeds that would have worried Harry in a normal car—every time they went around a sharp curve, he expected the limousine to roll over. He understood now why the Ishtars' chauffer had been so reluctant to hand over the keys.

"Couldn't we have taken a normal car?" he complained once after he was sure a back tire had lifted from the ground during a turn.

"We have none that would fit us all," Ishizu replied. If she was ruffled in the least by her elder brother's driving, she didn't show it.

"We have Stretching Charms," Harry grumbled, earning a laugh from Bill.

"But that wouldn't be as fun," the eldest Weasley said.

"I think your friend is more concerned about safety than 'fun,' Malik remarked. "If this worry extends to battle, then I hope we do not have to fight together."

"I have seen Harry fight," Kingsley said before Harry could snap back. "I assure you, you want him by your side if we must do battle."

Malik scoffed and looked away while Harry tried and failed to suppress a grin.

They reached the tomb shortly thereafter. Rishid, not bothering to look, nearly ran into a car parked at the entrance of the trail that led to the site. Even Malik and Ishizu grabbed for handholds as he swerved around it, cursing in Arabic.

Harry looked back at it through the rear window. "What idiot decided that was a good place to park a car?"

"A joy-riding idiot," Malik replied.

"Or a demon who did not want to walk," Ishizu said. "There is a good chance that Bakura has beaten us to the tomb."

With that sobering thought, Rishid parked the limousine and they all climbed out. Harry looked back at the parked car again. He could see now that the passenger side door was wide open, though there was no overhead light, and the motor was still running. There was a dark shape in the driver's seat. Harry walked closer, peering into the driver's side window and even rapping on the glass with the tip of his wand. "Lumos," he whispered, and then he stumbled back in shock as the light revealed the dead man, his face still turned toward the open passenger door with an expression of surprise.

"Bakura really has beaten us here," Malik said dryly from behind Harry.

"What makes you say that?" Harry asked him. "This man wasn't killed by magic; this looks like it was done with a knife."

"You mean your murder victim wasn't killed with a knife?" After Harry shook his head, Malik continued, "Then he must not have had one close enough. This demon likes his knives."

Harry looked back at the corpse, and he remembered the witness describing her husband's death all the way back in London when he had first started the case. _"He slashed at James with his hand…the look on Isaac's face…it was happy. Gleeful. Overjoyed…"_

He shivered. "Brilliant."

"If you like psycho magic users with knives," Malik said.

Harry didn't even look at him as they walked back to join the others. "We have another victim on our hands," he informed Kingsley.

"I saw that," Kingsley replied. "What do you think we should do about it?"

"Get inside the tomb and see if we can catch our killer. If he's not there anymore, we should contact the Egyptian authorities as soon as we're back out."

Kingsley smiled and clapped a hand on his shoulder before turning to Ishizu. "Miss Ishtar, if you would lead the way please."

Ishizu flicked a glance back at the car, and then she gave a short nod and turned to the path. It was narrow enough that they had to walk single file, and dark enough that all three wizards lit their wands to add to the feeble illumination of Rishid's flashlight. Malik took up the rear, trailing behind after griping once that all the light made it too easy for someone to hide in the shadows. Harry was impressed despite himself; Malik seemed to need no light to navigate a path that would have been treacherous even in full daylight. The land they walked through was broken, jagged hills with piles of rock that slid out from under their feet at the slightest touch. It was the ideal place for the tomb of an ancient, powerful king: dark, mysterious, and dangerous.

"I bet you love this," Harry muttered at one point to Bill, who was just ahead of him.

"Normally I would," Bill replied quietly. "But I saw the body in that car, and I don't want to become the next one. And even if we can catch him, how are we going to hold him? He's already shown us that he can vanish at will."

"Then we'll just have to keep him from vanishing," Harry said.

Bill looked back long enough to give him a skeptical stare. "You know how to do that?"

"I'm working on it," he admitted.

"We're here," Ishizu announced before Bill could say any more. The trail, which had been leading them downhill for some time, now widened until it ended in the floor of the valley. Rishid lifted his flashlight, and Harry murmured _"Lumos maxima"_ to his wand, so that its light grew until it lit the hillside before them.

Once a grand tomb entrance might have been there, but now the hill was nothing but a pile of boulders and rubble. Harry could see the remains of what had been a column, but now it laid on its side, broken into pieces. By his shoe was a particularly large rock fragment that had faint hieroglyphics carved into it, but nothing else remained to indicate that there was ever anything there except for a hole dug back into the hill.

Bill picked up the carved rock fragment and examined it. "So are there any nasty traps in this tomb?" he asked Ishizu.

"There used to be," she replied with a small smile. "However, everything was destroyed in the cave-in that occurred after the ceremonial duel six months ago. All that is left is the tunnel system we dug to reach the Millennium Items." She indicated the hole.

"Is that the only way in or out?" Harry asked.

She nodded.

"Great." He was already nervous, but the sight of the small tunnel opening teased his nerves to the edge of panic. He had been picturing a nice hall, maybe not large but certainly big enough to allow them to surround Bakura and bring him down. If all the tunnels were the same size as this entrance, they would only be able to face him one by one. And face him they would, if he was down there. He gripped his wand tighter, cast a glance back at Kingsley (who nodded), and stepped up to the hole. It was barely high enough for him to enter without ducking. Hearing the scuff of a shoe, he looked back and found to his surprise that Malik was the first one to follow him in.

"There's more than one tunnel in here," the Egyptian boy said. "If you're going first, I have to tell you the way."

"Okay," Harry replied.

"And maybe it would better if you took that off," Malik continued.

Harry put a hand to the Millennium Ring he still wore against his chest. "No."

"Suit yourself, but don't blame me if you get sliced to ribbons while he goes after it."

"As opposed to all of us getting sliced to ribbons if I pass it all the way to the back and he goes after it?"

Malik blinked and gave him a grudging nod. "Good point."

"You don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself. Just tell me how to get through to this tablet you say he's after."

"For starters, you go straight until you reach the first split."

Harry gave him a dirty look and started down the tunnel.

The whole journey was spent in tense silence except for Malik's whispered directions. Harry was sure that Bakura was hiding around every turn, and he had to fight the urge to dampen the light coming from his wand tip every time he came upon an intersection. It was a useless gesture in the first place, since any light at all would be noticed in this pitch black crypt, and Harry was also sure he would trip over his own feet if he lowered the level of light. The Ishtars—Malik especially—were graced with the ability to move silently; the wizards all made noise despite their best efforts. Every time one of them kicked a pebble or bumped into the wall, the noise sounded loud as a bell. Harry was only thankful that sound didn't echo in those rough-hewn tunnels.

Soon, however, he began to wonder if Bakura was down there at all. Maybe the boy had beaten them there, found what he was looking for, and got out again before they arrived. Maybe their trip down to the pharaoh's former burial place was a big waste of time. Yet even if it was, Harry had no other trail to follow. Ishizu was sure he would come here, and the dead body in the car was proof enough that she was right. Beyond this, where would he go? Harry chanced a look back, but Malik had his eyes set firmly on the passage ahead. Clearly, he still believed they would run into Bakura. Harry noticed for the first time that he had brought a Millennium Item as well: the Millennium Rod if he remembered correctly. He clutched it before him in his fist the same way that Harry gripped his wand in times of danger.

Noticing his stare, Malik dropped the Rod to his side. "Thinking about going back?" he asked pointedly.

"No," Harry replied. "I'm just wondering what you expect to do with that if it has lost all its magic."

"You'll see," Malik told him with a grim smile. "We're nearly there. If Bakura is here, he'll be in the room just up ahead."

That was enough to turn Harry's attention back to the tunnel in front of him. Malik was right; he could already see where the tunnel ended in a room, maybe twenty steps ahead. Harry swallowed and raised his wand higher before edging forward those last few steps.

At first he thought the room was empty. He stepped to the side, allowing the others to file in, and swept the length of the chamber with his wandlight. It was a small room, with a golden door against the far wall that was cracked and missing a few chunks. In the middle was a large stone tablet, also cracked into pieces. Harry assumed that this was the "tablet of the underworld" that Bakura was after, and he was relieved to see that it was in fact unusable—at least in its current condition. Then he caught a flash of white on the floor at the tablet's far corner.

"Kingsley!" he said, walking around the tablet. Ryou Bakura was there after all, stretched out on the floor behind the tablet. He looked unconscious, but Harry wasn't taking any chances. He waited until Bill and Kingsley had come close enough to train their wands on the white-haired boy, and then he knelt down, grabbed a shoulder, and turned Ryou onto his back.

He moaned a little as he rolled over. "R-Ryou Bakura?" Harry asked.

His eyelids fluttered, and opened—and he shrieked so loudly that Harry jumped back and nearly Stunned him. "A-are you Ryou Bakura?" he asked again.

"I am," the boy replied as he pushed himself up. He grimaced as four beams of light hit him in the face, and put a hand over his eyes. "Can you not do that, please? I can't see."

Harry lowered his wand, but he kept it at the ready. So far this encounter was not what he had expected from a demon-possessed boy, but he was not about to let his guard down. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Malik was also on edge, holding the Millennium Rod in front of him in a defensive posture. That confirmed Harry's instincts; Malik had told them how Zorc was good at pretending to be his gentle host.

Ryou lowered his hand after the other wizards and Rishid also redirected their lights. His large eyes darted all around the room, coming to rest at last on Malik's face. "Malik? What's going on? Where am I?"

Malik sneered and, before Harry could react, jumped at Ryou. He twisted the end off the Rod to reveal a thin, sharp tip that he shoved under Ryou's chin and he landed on him.

"Oi!" Harry shouted as Ryou shrieked again, but Malik threw his hand back to forestall him. Similarly, Ishizu grabbed Bill's shoulder as he stepped forward to intervene. "Let him deal with it," she whispered.

"You sure you don't know where you are?" Malik snapped, jabbing the tip upward until a drop of blood rolled down it. "None of this looks the least bit familiar? You walked yourself down here, after all."

"I-I-I don't know what you mean!" Ryou sputtered. "I was in my apartment—I blacked out or something—"

"Wrong answer!" Malik grabbed a fistful of white hair and wrench Ryou's head back. "Bakura talked to me only a few hours ago, and I know it was him. If you don't remember that, then you're not Bakura at all, are you?"

"I am!" Ryou yelled back. "I am, and if I don't remember talking to you, then it must not have been me!" He stopped short and looked around as much as he could with his eyes, unable to move his head due to Malik's vise-like grip. "I—he—is it…still inside me?"

Malik snorted and stood up, letting him go. "I don't know. Is it?" He turned back Ishizu and Rishid and gave them a worried look and a shrug. "I honestly can't tell," he told them. "He might be the real Bakura, but Zorc can be convincing."

Ryou, massaging his throat, gave them all a look that reminded Harry strongly of a kicked puppy. "Of course I'm me. Were you really going to kill me if I wasn't?"

"No," Malik said with a scoff. "Killing you won't kill Zorc. If I thought it would, you would be dead now."

"You're not serious," Harry said.

Malik seemed to think this statement unworthy of a reply; he merely folded his arms and glowered at Ryou.

"Um…" Ryou said as he stood up slowly, his gaze roving among the wizards. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Harry Potter," Harry replied, taking a careful step back. "This is Kingsley Shacklebolt and Bill Weasley. We…I came here to arrest you."

"_Arrest_ me? For what?"

"For—" Harry glanced back at the others and then returned his attention to Ryou. "Look, maybe we should get out of here before I explain. I have a feeling this is going to take a while." He didn't add that he was feeling more claustrophobic by the second, which wasn't helped by the possibility that he could be talking to a violent demon.

Ryou nodded, folding his arms against a shiver. "You never did tell me where I am," he said in a reproachful tone to Malik.

"Atem's tomb," the Egyptian boy replied. "You should recognize it. You were here for his and Yugi's duel."

Ryou squeezed his arms tighter. "It didn't look like this back then. But it caved in. I remember…we left the Millennium Items and just ran. Is that why…he brought me here? Is he looking for them?"

At this, Malik seemed to relax completely. "Actually, Zorc came here for the underworld tablet, which you can see is useless. He must have left you when he saw that."

"Good." Ryou kicked at a piece of tablet. "Let's get out of here then."

Malik led the way out at his own insistence, followed by Ryou, then Rishid, Kingsley, Ishizu, Bill, and Harry taking the rear. From what Harry could gather, none of them wanted him—and thus the Millennium Ring—anywhere close to Ryou. Even Ryou himself seemed to want to stay away from it; when he noticed the Ring around Harry's neck, he blanched and backed away so quickly that he stumbled and hit his head on the wall. That was enough to convince Harry that it was really Ryou Bakura and not Zorc that they were dealing with, for he was sure the demon would try to position himself as close to the Ring as possible. Malik, however, still treated Ryou as if he were a bomb set to explode at any second.

When they reached the surface, Harry was surprised to find that it was still dark. They had been down in the tomb for what seemed like hours, so he had been sure the sun would be up when they trooped out. However, the only light present in the valley was from the stars and the half-moon, so they were forced to keep using their wands and the flashlight to make it back to the limousine. Ryou shot a curious look at the other car, but Malik shoved him into the backseat before he could take more than a step in that direction. "There's nothing there to see," he said shortly.

Kingsley got in on Ryou's other side, and Harry, Bill, and Ishizu sat across from him. "So why are you going to arrest me?" Ryou asked at last as Rishid started the limo and pulled onto the road. "And who are you, really? You don't look like police."

"I'm not with the police," Harry explained. "I'm a wizard. And I'm not going to arrest you. What I'm really after is Zorc."

Ryou winced at the name and eyed the Ring again with a look of fear. "Wizard? What do you mean by that? Can you use the Millennium Items too?"

"They don't have any power left to use, from what I understand. They're not the only magic in the world, however. When I say I'm a wizard, I mean I can use magic for all sorts of things. Right now, I'm in training to be an Auror—that's someone who catches wizards who use Dark Magic. You understand?"

Ryou was silent for so long that Harry feared he had overwhelmed the poor boy. "Magic…still exists?" he asked finally. "Other than the Millennium Items?"

"Yes," Harry replied.

"And…you look for people who have done Dark Magic."

"Yes, exactly." Harry was relieved; it seemed he didn't have to do quite as much explaining this time around. "A few days ago, a Muggle—that's what we call non-magic people—was murdered with Dark Magic. I believe it was this demon Zorc that has been possessing you. He was in someone else at the time, and we tracked him to your apartment in Japan, but then—"

"Isaac Harwell?" Ryou whispered.

"Yes!" Harry sat forward, causing the Ring to swing toward Ryou, who cringed back into his seat. "You remember him?"

"Yes. He was one of my old friends, from before I lived in Japan. One of the ones that _he_ put to sleep. I was shocked to find out that he had woken up and came to see me. He said…" Ryou's voice dropped. "He said he wanted to play a game. But I found out that it wasn't really him at all. That's when…" He stopped, seemed to struggle with some memory, and then finally looked up again. "That's when I blacked out. I don't remember anything after that."

"Are you sure?" Malik asked.

"Yes." Ryou looked at him. "I know you think I talked to you, but it must not have been me. Did it seem like me at the time?"

"I didn't think so. I mean, it didn't seem like the normal you," Malik said with a shrug. "But I'm not entirely convinced of who I'm talking to now, so it's a moot point."

Ryou accepted this with a nod and turned back to Harry. "So what are you going to do with me?"

"Take you back to Britain," he responded, glancing at Kingsley. The latter gave him a small nod to assure him that he was on the right course, so Harry continued, "We have people at the Ministry who can sort out this possession business. If Zorc is still inside you, we can get him out and close this case. If not…"

"If not, then we're at a dead end," Kingsley said. "But we need to keep the Millennium Items just in case.

"Whoa!" Malik cried, sitting up straight. "You didn't mention that before. What makes you think you're taking them anywhere?"

"Why would you still want them?" Harry retorted. "You said yourself that you wouldn't even be able to tell if they have power left in them or not. Well, we can. We just have to take them back and have them examined."

"The Millennium Items have been under our protection for three thousand years—"

"And we have no reason left to protect them," Ishizu interrupted. "Unless there is another ancient underworld tablet in Britain, I see no reason why we shouldn't let the wizards have them."

"I can definitely say that we don't have one of those," Bill said. "Unless Harry saw one that time he was in the Department of Mysteries."

They all looked at Harry, obviously expecting an instant denial that the Department of Mysteries held anything of the sort. The problem was, he wasn't so sure. Of course, there was no ancient tablet, but that curtain that had claimed Sirius didn't look like it needed any device to open or close it. "No, of course not," he said after a short delay.

"Fine," Malik said. "Then I'm going too, and I'm calling Yugi."

"Why?" Harry asked with an inward groan. He wanted nothing more than to be rid of the surly Egyptian.

"Because I know the most about the Items' history, and he knows the most about how they work." Malik cast a sidelong glare at Ryou. "Yugi also has the best chance of figuring out if this is really Bakura."

"I'm not sure if he could get to Britain quickly enough—"

"You have magic, don't you?" Malik cut in. "So magic him there."

"That's not how it works."

"Make it work." Malik sat back and folded his arms. "It's the only way I'll allow you to take those ancient Egyptian relics out of the country without the usual bureaucratic red tape."

"He has you there," Bill muttered in Harry's ear.

Harry sighed. "Fine. You call Yugi, and I'll get things arranged on my end. We can all be in the British Ministry by morning."

"This is not the way I had expected to return to Britain," Ryou muttered.


	9. Chapter 9

Wow. Six months between updates is a new low for me. I definitely plan on doing better with the next update, especially since I'm about to deactivate my Final Fantasy XI account. I got much more written in two days of not playing that game than I did in, well, the previous six months. If anyone is still reading this, thanks for hanging in there. I appreciate your patience and reviews.

Chapter 9

Harry got a sinking feeling the second he spied Malik walking into the Egyptian Ministry of Magic alone, a padlocked briefcase in one hand and a stubborn expression on his face. "Where are your siblings?" he asked.

"I convinced Ishizu and Rishid not to come," Malik replied. "I'm the only one going with you, after all."

"And they don't know that you have no intention of handing over the Millennium Items, do they?"

"I said I would let them be examined, so I will. I'll be there the whole time, and then I'll bring them back. _All_ of them." Malik shifted his glare to Harry's chest, where he had hidden the Millennium Ring under his shirt. "I don't care what Ishizu thinks. They are under my protection, and I refuse to just give them away. Where's Bakura?"

Harry felt a strong temptation to ignore the change of subject, but he suppressed it. Keeping Malik's cooperation—such as it was—was vital if he was going to close this case and get back to a more normal way of life. "Waiting for us in the Auror's office," he said. "We'll be taking a Portkey from there to Britain as soon as we can get it authorized."

"And Yugi?"

"I haven't heard anything back from the Japanese Ministry yet. Are you sure he agreed to come?"

"I'm sure. He sounded excited. What's taking your people so long, anyways?" Malik snapped the question in an accusing tone that put Harry even more on edge.

"It's normally against the International Statute of Secrecy to transport Muggles by any means of magic," he answered a little more sharply than he meant to. "Kingsley is working hard to get you and Yugi Mutou cleared for Portkeys. It helps that the two of you already know about the existence of magic, but there's still an enormous amount of red tape to cut through."

"If I had succeeded in ruling the world, I would have gotten rid of bureaucracy," Malik muttered, earning a grudging smile from Harry. "By the way…what exactly is a Portkey?"

"Oh!" Harry had forgotten that he knew very little about modern magic. "A Portkey is an object that you can enchant so that it instantly teleports itself and anyone touching it to a specified place. It's a difficult spell, and one that is usually done only under Ministry supervision in Britain."

Malik stared at him for a minute. "Is it safe?" he asked at last.

"Of course. I've used them loads of times." Harry paused, noted the Egyptian's relieved look, and couldn't help but throw a barb at him. "It can be very uncomfortable, though."

Malik's expression instantly became worried. "Uncomfortable how?"

"Oh, it's nothing you can't get used to," Harry replied airily. He spied Bill walking into the lobby over Malik's shoulder and nodded at him. "Looks like we finally got our clearance."

"Uncomfortable _how_?" Malik demanded again as he follow Harry to the eldest Weasley, but Harry ignored him.

"Good news," Bill told them as they met in the center of the lobby. "Kingsley got the Portkeys arranged. Your Japanese friend will probably be in Britain before you, even."

"That's great!" Harry said. "Maybe we'll get some answers finally."

"Don't hold your breath. You're dealing with magic we know nothing about," Bill told him. "I'm kind of glad that I'm not going back with you, to be honest."

"You're not?" Malik said in surprise.

Bill shook his head. "My home and my pregnant wife are here until I can get Gringotts to transfer me again. It was nice meeting you, though. All my coworkers are jealous that I got a look inside the Ishtar mansion."

Malik snorted while Harry grinned. "It was great to see you again, Bill. Tell Fleur I said hi, will you?"

"Of course." Bill stuck out his hand, and Harry shook it. "You should get moving; Kingsley is waiting on you. We'll see each other again soon, I'm sure."

"Thanks, Bill."

After receiving a last clap on the shoulder, Harry walked back to the doorway Bill had come through, which led back into the labyrinth of halls and offices that made up the Egyptian Ministry. Malik followed half a step behind him, nearly tripping him by being so close. "Has Bakura acted any differently?" he asked in a low voice.

"Not that I have seen," Harry replied. "He hasn't said anything since we left your mansion, and he hasn't done anything except what we told him to. To be honest, I think he's scared and overwhelmed. Is that the same Bakura that you have known?"

"Yeah, that sounds like him."

Harry stopped and turned around to face him. "Then what are you so worried about? Surely this demon thing can't act _that_ stupidly innocent."

"And what the hell do you know about demons?" Malik retorted. "Ever met one before? I've seen Zorc pull this trick before; I've even helped him with it. He's better at it than most humans I know. It is nearly impossible to tell which is which at a time like this, and far safer to assume that it's Zorc. Trust me; it will save us all grief."

"All right, all right." Harry swallowed a sigh and pushed through a door into a room with several cubicles. Ryou was just visible in the nearest one, staring down at hands folded neatly in his lap. To Harry, he looked just like he would expect—a normal guy overwhelmed by the extraordinary circumstances he had found himself in. He really couldn't believe that it could be Zorc just pretending, and he had at least one good reason for it. "If that _is_ Zorc," he asked, keeping his voice low. "Why is he still possessing Bakura? You said that he wanted that underworld tablet, which he obviously can't use anymore. So why would he stick around? There's nothing left for him."

From the look on Malik's face, it was clear that he hadn't thought of this. "To have fun and wreak havoc? I don't know."

"Well, he's not doing either," Harry pointed out. "So let's give him the benefit of the doubt, shall we?"

Malik gave a noncommittal grunt, and Harry decided to accept it as the best he would get. He walked over to the cubicle and leaned in. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

Ryou jerked his head up as if startled. "Er…yes," he replied, standing up. Then he cast a cautious look in Malik's direction and said, "I remember now."

"Remember what?" asked a startled Malik.

"Talking to you. Back at your house." Ryou folded his arms tightly across his chest. "I told you that he was back. And…he couldn't hear us. I was keeping him trapped. For the first time ever." A little smile played across his lips as he spoke.

Harry saw Malik relax a little out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, you said that," the Egyptian said. "You were acting weird though. It scared me a little."

"I'm sorry."

Malik snorted. "Why do you have to apologize for everything? It's not your fault. Come on, let's go get this over with."

Ryou nodded and fell into step behind them as Harry began to thread his way to the back of the room. Harry noticed that Malik shifted his briefcase to the hand farthest from the white-haired boy; it seemed his trust didn't extend very far. Ryou wasn't paying attention in any case. His eyes roved around the room, taking in the sight of wizards going about their daily work. It reminded Harry of his own first visit to the Ministry of Magic, and how exciting it would have been had he not been so worried about his disciplinary hearing. It must have been so much stranger for Ryou, who had not even known about the existence of wizards until last night.

Kingsley was waiting in a small office at the back of the room. Sitting at a desk in the corner was an ancient, dark-skinned wizard with a shaggy mane of white hair. "You all go on this Portkey?" he asked in with a thick accent.

"Yes, we're all here," Harry told him.

"Good, good." The wizard picked up an old computer keyboard and handed it to Harry. "Muggle junk," he explained as though he expected no one to know what it was. "Only good for making Portkeys."

"Er…right," Harry said. He turned around and held it out to the other boys. "All you have to do is touch it," he said. "Anywhere will do."

If Malik had been nervous before, he was downright scared now. "What's it going to do to us?" he demanded, taking a step back.

"Port us to the British Ministry," Harry said in exasperation as Kingsley laid a hand on the keyboard. "If you don't want to go, at least give me the Millennium Items."

Malik grabbed the edge of the keyboard.

"Ten seconds," the Egyptian wizard warned, and everyone looked at Ryou, who was staring at them all with wide eyes.

"Well, come on," Malik told him. "It doesn't hurt that much."

Harry had to suppress a laugh as Ryou reluctantly put his fingers on the keyboard's edge. "It doesn't hurt at all. I was just messing with his head earlier," he said under his breath.

He barely heard Ryou give a quiet chuckle before he was suddenly jerked off his feet into a whirl of color.

Seconds later, he was grabbing onto the edge of a nearby table while Malik and Bakura tumbled to the ground beside him. Somehow, Kingsley landed steady on his feet. Harry glared at him in envy, wondering how he managed it.

"Welcome back," said an amused voice behind him. "How was your trip?"

Harry turned around to see Hermione smiling at him. Behind her, Ron leaned against the receiving room's doorway with a similar grin. "What are you two doing here?" he asked.

"I have training here, mate," Ron replied. "Just like you."

"And I have been using the Ministry's library for research like you asked me to," Hermione said. "Harry, have you _seen_ the library here? They have books that Madam Pince could only dream of—"

"That's—that's great, Hermione," Harry said quickly. "Did you find anything?"

"Nothing but a few vague references to a dark time concerning magic and a pharaoh without a name." Hermione eyed Malik and Ryou as she spoke. "It seems you found a lot more without my help."

"Who are you?" Malik asked, crossing his arms.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at his rude tone, but before she could say anything, a Ministry wizard ran up from behind them and waved his arms. "Everyone away from the center of the room; we have more incoming," he squeaked.

The group had barely reached the doorway when there was a loud pop and two more people appeared in the middle of the room. Yugi Mutou staggered into a desk and used it to stay upright, but Kaoru Kishimura fell straight to the floor. Harry managed to choke back a laugh, but he couldn't stop his smile.

"Malik-kun! Bakura-kun!" Yugi had spied his friends and ran over to them immediately. The three of them fell into a conversation in Japanese while Kingsley walked over and helped Kaoru to her feet.

Ron gave a low whistle. "Seems you got the good case, mate," he said. "You'll have to tell me all about it."

"I will once things settle down a bit. For now I've got to pry those Millennium Items away from Malik long enough for someone to examine them and find someone who will be able to tell if my murder suspect is still possessed by a psychotic knife-loving demon."

"And all I got was a wizard who was enchanting Muggle mailboxes to bite the postmen," Ron grumbled.

Hermione, however, looked thunderstruck. "You found the Millennium Items?" she whispered. "Harry, do you have any idea what they can do?"

"No actually, which is why I want to examine them and see if they even have any power left. Why? I thought you said you didn't find anything, Hermione."

"I said I found a few vague references, but even that was enough to tell that something really dreadful happened." Hermione paused and glanced over at the rest of the group, but the three foreign friends were still catching up, and Kingsley and Kaoru were engaged in their own conversation. "A whole branch of magic like this doesn't just become disused and forgotten. Someone sealed the magic and then erased the knowledge deliberately, so that whatever happened wouldn't happen again. Harry, that's a drastic measure to take, and I'm pretty sure that it hasn't happened since. I mean, look at all the trouble we had with Voldemort, and even Grindelwald before him, and there are still books detailing the method of making a Horcrux."

"Wait," Ron interjected. "So what you're saying is that whatever is going on here, it's worse than Voldemort?"

"Not what _is_ going on, what happened _before_," Hermione replied in exasperation.

"Well, sorry. Harry apparently told you a lot about his case without one mentioning it to me."

Harry winced at that. "I'm sorry, Ron. It's just that you had your own training case to handle, and Hermione is the one who has read—"

"The entire library at Hogwarts, and now it seems the Ministry's library, too," Ron interjected. "No worries mate, but could you at least give me the broad overview? Like how long ago was this supposed branch of magic erased from memory?"

"Three thousand years," Harry replied. "It was some magic in ancient Egypt that involved card games and a demon."

Ron snorted at that. "Did they even have cards in ancient Egypt?"

"No, they used something else to play this game from what I understand. I know it sounds strange, but these people are deadly serious about this magic, and we should be too. At least two people are dead, and I don't intend to see anyone else killed."

"I'm not saying it's not serious," Ron said. "You…don't think it could be that serious, do you? I mean, it can't possibly be worse than Voldemort."

Harry glanced back at Bakura. "I don't know, Ron," he said. "For all that he did and all that he tried, Voldemort was still human. I have no idea what a demon would be capable of, especially if it got its hands on the power it wants."

"Blimey," Ron breathed. "Tell me you know where this demon is."

"Well, it _was_ in Ryou Bakura—the white-haired boy." Harry jerked his head back in Ryou's direction. "Whether or not it's still possessing him is why he's here. Either way, the power it wants seems to be gone, so whatever major crisis there might have been, it won't happen now."

"Maybe, but this demon has still killed people," Hermione said. "So it still has power. And now you've brought it into the Ministry. Harry, even if it can't have the old power that was sealed away, there are plenty of other things that he might find interesting here, not to mention our entire government."

Harry felt a sinking feeling. "I didn't think about that…"

"Obviously," said Hermione.

"But what else was I supposed to do? I couldn't just leave him in Egypt, and the Aurors' interrogation rooms are here. The only other option would be to take him straight to Azkaban, but I told him he wasn't under arrest." Harry paused and thought about it, and his stomach tightened. "And quite frankly the idea of a demon in control of a bunch of dementors scares me more than anything he could find here."

Hermione winced. "Good point. Still, I do hope that he isn't possessed anymore, Harry."

"Or that he doesn't get loose and go on a rampage here," Ron added.

The three of them turned to look at Ryou. The boy was mostly staring at the floor, offering half-hearted replies to anything Malik or Yugi said to him. He looked up though, meeting Harry's eyes briefly before looking away again. It seemed innocent enough, but Harry felt a shiver roll up his spine.

Kingsley walked over to them. "The Japanese Ministry is not happy about allowing Yugi Mutou to come here," he told Harry. "Ms. Kishimura is going to stay here and sit in on any discussions involving Mutou."

Harry groaned. "Why? He's a Muggle."

"Who has used magic, if his story is true," Kingsley reminded. "Kishimura must have told her superiors the same story Mutou told us. They are probably doing their own investigation into it now."

"Should we be worried about it?" Harry asked.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with our case, no. I suggest we move these boys along. Bakura will be heading up to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the Items will be taken to the Department of Mysteries."

"The…Department of Mysteries?" Harry spluttered. "Just to find out if they have magic? I thought they would go to Mr. Weasley or someone like him."

"For relics that are potentially dangerous?" Kingsley shook his head. "It is best to let an Unspeakable handle them in a secure location. I believe it is also best to keep the Items and Bakura as far apart as possible until we determine if he is still possessed or not."

Harry glanced over to see Ryou watching him again. "I guess I have to go with Bakura," he said. "Malik will no doubt want to stay with the Items, but what about Yugi? Malik said that he knows the most about the Items' power, but he also knows the most about Bakura."

Kingsley shrugged. "It's your case, Harry. Where do you think he would be most beneficial?"

Harry grimaced, and Ron grinned at him. "Gets a little old, doesn't it?"

"What does, responsibility?" Hermione retorted.

Kingsley arched an eyebrow at them. "Shouldn't the two of you be elsewhere?"

Hermione had the grace to look abashed, but Ron said, "Oh no, Minister, my Auror and I wrapped up our case earlier today, and he said I could hang around the offices and see what the others are up to—"

"He means we're not supposed to be _here_," Hermione said, taking his arm and pulling him out. "Honestly, Ron, I know you're smart. Why don't you try using your brain sometimes?"

Their voices got fainter as they moved down the hall, but Harry heard Ron reply, "Why? That's what I have you for," before they faded entirely.

Harry chuckled, and then he remembered what he was supposed to be deciding. "I think Yugi should go down with the Millennium Items," he said. "He would better be able to tell anything about them, and if Zorc really is still inside Bakura, he might be more on guard with Yugi around."

"That sounds as reasonable as this case can get," Kingsley said.

"Thanks," Harry muttered. _Nothing about this case is reasonable._ He didn't say that out loud, but only walked over to the other group. "Er, excuse me," he said.

Ryou, Malik, and Yugi halted their conversation and looked at him expectantly. "Bakura, you'll be coming with me so we can ask you a few questions—"

"But I'm not really under arrest?" Ryou asked.

"No," Harry said with a small smile. "We just want to find out if you're still possessed."

"Okay," Ryou said, stepping to his side.

"What about the Items?" Malik asked. "Going to ask questions of them, too?"

Yugi coughed in a way that made Harry suspect he was covering up a laugh. "No," the Auror-in-training said, trying not to sound irritated. "You're going downstairs to the Department of Mysteries. Someone there will test the Items to see if there is any magic left in them. Yugi, I want you to go with him since you know more about the magic than any of us."

"Okay," Yugi replied.

"How am I going to find this Department of Mysteries?" Malik snapped.

"I will accompany you," Kingsley said. To Harry, he added, "I've already sent a memo ahead, so they will be expecting you."

Harry winced. "I forgot about that."

"Next time you won't," Kingsley replied. He started for the door, but Malik stayed in place and raised an eyebrow at Harry.

"Oh yeah!" Harry pulled the Ring out from under his robes and around his neck, and he handed it to Malik.

"Maybe you should work on not forgetting everything," the Egyptian retorted, and then he and Yugi followed Kingsley out.

"Don't worry about him," Ryou said quietly. "He's mean to everyone."

"Yeah? He seemed rather nice to you and Yugi."

Ryou gave a half shrug. "You couldn't understand what we were saying. He respects Yugi for being the pharaoh's vessel, but as for me…"

"He still thinks you're Zorc," Harry surmised.

Ryou nodded.

"Are you?"

"No," the boy said flatly, but he hugged himself and shivered. "That doesn't mean he isn't still inside me, though."

"Come on, then," Harry said. "Let's go find out."

Ryou was quiet as they made their way to the elevator. The Portkey Office was on Level Five of the Ministry, so it was a short ride up to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on Level Two, albeit crowded. Harry took up a position at the back of the elevator and flattened his hair over his scar, but that didn't stop everyone who boarded from greeting him and giving him a handshake or pat on the back.

"You know a lot of people here," Ryou said quietly as the elevator rattled up to their stop.

"Not really," Harry muttered. "I'm just famous."

"Famous? For what?"

"Defeating the worst Dark Wizard in recorded history."

"Wow," said Ryou. "That's quite an accomplishment."

"It was quite a war," Harry replied. The elevator clanged to a halt then, and the female voice announcing the level interrupted anything Ryou might have said in reply. "Our stop," Harry said as the doors opened. The two of them stepped out into a quieter hallway, and the lift doors closed behind them. "The Auror Headquarters is just up ahead. I have no idea how long this is going to take, though."

"How do they tell if I'm still possessed?"

That one made Harry pause. "I'm…not sure," he said. "I've never even heard of demon possession outside Muggle movies, and I don't think we have any documented cases. If we do have an expert in this sort of thing, I don't know them. Otherwise, I guess it would be a process of trial and error?"

"That's comforting," Ryou said.

Harry blinked; the boy had sounded almost sincere. "Right," he said, starting to walk again. "Let's just get this—"

He stumbled to his knees as his head exploded in pain. "Agh!" he cried, fumbling for his wand. "What the—"

Again his sentence was interrupted as Ryou grabbed a handful of his robes and hauled him around and onto his back. The look on his face was maniacal, bone-chilling. Harry realized with sick dread that there was no question any more who was in control of Ryou Bakura's body.

Zorc had a long knife in one hand, still crusted with dried blood. Grinning, he jumped on top of Harry. "Another thing about Muggle movies," he said. "They make it look so easy to knock someone unconscious with one blow. It's not, you know. Well, you should know now. Too bad for you, now you have to feel the rest!" He raised the knife.

Harry's groping hand finally met his wand. "_Stupefy!_" he yelled, and with a flash of red light, the boy flew off him. Harry scrambled to his knees, his stomach lurching as a wave of dizziness washed over him.

"What's going on?" called a voice behind him, and somewhere beyond that, a door slammed. Harry felt relieved. The hall was filling up with people now, mostly Aurors who had heard the commotion. It would take a while for the Stunning spelling to wear off, and they could help him find some way to contain the demon so that he wouldn't vanish like he had before.

Then Zorc began to get up. Harry stared, dumbfounded and sure that the blow to his head was making him hallucinate. But the boy shook his wild mane of hair out of his face as he stood up, not even using the wall for support. He sent a hateful glare at Harry, who raised his wand and sent another spell at him "_Stupefy!_"

This time Zorc dodged the red bolt, but it was echoed by several more from other wizards, and he was forced to retreat. He didn't seem to mind this though; he ran right back to the elevator, which had just opened to release a couple more wizards who were unaware of the brewing battle. Zorc dodged behind one, then shoved him away from the lift as a Stunning spell hit him. The second one whirled around, going for his wand, but Zorc planted his knife in the man's gut and shoved him back.

"No!" Harry yelled, realizing what the demon was after. He tried again to get to his feet, but it was too late. With a loud bang, Zorc pulled the elevator's door closed and hammered a button on the panel. Spells ricocheted as they hit the grill, but he only grinned as he sank out of sight.


	10. Chapter 10

I was surprised to find so many readers left after such an extended break before the last chapter. I'm incredibly grateful to every reviewer, and this chapter will answer most of your questions. Forgive me if any details regarding the Millennium Items and their power are off; it's been a while since I've watched the ancient Egypt arc, and I didn't do much research in my haste to get this chapter out before I start my new job. Also, I've had to bump up the story's rating due to the slightly graphic content. Sorry if anyone is put off by it. Otherwise, enjoy and please review.

Chapter 10

As soon as the hall and the wizards faded from view, Zorc allowed himself to slump against the back wall with a low laugh that ended in a hiss. That had been _fun_. Watching everyone tiptoe around him, so fearful and unsure and yet still so open. In just one short day he had learned so much about this wizarding world. Magic had evolved and grown since his time, but it was still far too weak to defeat him. The old wizards had been able to seal his body away, but even that technique was lost in the subsequent erasing of all knowledge of shadow magic. Now the living world had no hope.

But there was still his host to consider. A flash of pain lanced through his head, a reminder that Ryou's prison was no longer the least bit stable. Every second he was in control, Zorc had to struggle to hold the tomb robber back. No longer could he put Ryou to sleep, and any attempt at another memory prison would be pure folly. It was the first thing he had tried down in the pharaoh's tomb, after he had found the broken tablet. The tomb robber had been wild with mirth at Zorc's misfortune, and never had the demon wanted to make anyone suffer more than at that moment. Yet when he closed Ryou's mind within the worst memories he had, the boy had fought back with such fury that the battle had left them both unconscious. It was luck alone that Zorc had awakened first when the Ishtars and the wizards found him.

He didn't remember Malik being quite so wary of him. At one point he treid to look into Ryou's mind to find the memory of that conversation the Egyptian had mentioned, but Ryou woke up and fought back as soon as he started, and he gleaned little information. Still, it was enough that Malik let the little wizard boy be along with him. A foolish, foolish decision, especially here, where his power was the strongest it had been in years.

As soon as he had landed here, he had felt it. Somewhere below in this very building was a door to the underworld. An open door. These arrogant people were delving too deep into magics they could not comprehend.

_They opened a door without the Items or the tablet,_ came the gleeful Ryou-whisper. _Perhaps they comprehend more even than you._

Zorc snarled, but he could not block out Ryou's laughter. "You won't be laughing when I walk through that door and reclaim my body," he growled. "You will be left there, after all."

For some reason, this made Ryou laugh harder.

"Level Four," said the lift's voice. "Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

Zorc cursed and moved to the grille, drawing invisibility around himself. Surprisingly, however, only the normal crowd of wizards waited on the other side, some of them moving onto the elevator as the doors opened while others talked amongst themselves. He slipped out anyway, wishing to confuse any possible pursuit. Apparently wizards didn't have the very effective communications systems that existed in the rest of the world—another prideful error that would lead to their downfall at his hands. Zorc grinned to himself and made his way to a lift two spaces down that had just opened. It was empty, so he stepped on and hit the lowest button on the panel. Just as the doors were closing, a squad of wizards with drawn wands rushed into the lift lobby. Zorc chuckled as his elevator began to descend.

"Such a weak society," he said. "They cannot even coordinate an effective defense against one boy in their government headquarters."

_You are confusing them with shadows,_ Ryou replied.

That was true. Zorc was taking no chances on anything getting between him and his goal, and so he was using his magic to touch the minds of everyone he encountered ever so slightly. It was a trick that would go undetected, but it was just enough to keep the wizards from drawing the right conclusions. Changing elevators had probably been unnecessary, but he kept a healthy dose of caution anyway.

The lift stopped at the next level, and several people boarded it. Zorc pressed himself into the back corner, and if any of the nearby wizards brushed against him, they took no notice. Again at the next level came a grinding stop where several people exited and a few more got on. Now there were whispers among the group about a possible dark wizard running loose in the Ministry. Zorc had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

Halfway between levels six and seven, the lift shuddered to a halt. "Ministry lift occupants, you are in no danger," said the cool woman's voice, silencing the cries of alarm and confusion almost as soon as they began. "Due to heightened security, all means of transportation within the Ministry of Magic have been suspended at this time. A Ministry official will be along shortly to provide assistance. Thank you for your patience and cooperation at this time."

"Not soon enough for me to make my meeting, I'll wager," a short man near the door grumbled.

"Oi, get over yourself, McGibbons," said a witch. "I'd rather be stuck in here than in the path of some lunatic dark wizard."

This was just too sweet an opportunity for Zorc to pass by. "I don't suppose you'll settle for both?" he asked, dropping his invisibility guise. "I agree with Shorty though; this is too much of an inconvenience." He took a moment to savor the sudden shock, fear, and anger these five wizards directed at him—but most of all he enjoyed the horror that rolled off his landlord.

"To think, there was a time when you liked this just as much," he said, lifting his hand as the wizards raised their wands.

Ryou's shriek became background music to the sound of five voices yelling five different curses, most of which hit the walls as Zorc dropped to a crouch. There was too little room to maneuver, and two of the wizards went down in the first volley, struck by their companions' spells. The demon slashed his hand against the legs of the wizard closest to him, and the man crumpled in a screaming heap, blood staining his yellow robes. Zorc slashed across his throat and then grabbed the dying man's robes and hauled him up in time to catch the next two spells aimed at him. Then he dropped the body and lunged at the man called McGibbons, slashing at his face. McGibbons screamed and dropped his wand as his cheeks and forehead erupted in a shower of blood, and Zorc turned to the witch, who was the only one left standing. Her next spell came too fast to dodge; he had barely looked at her when he caught a red beam of light full in the chest. It smashed him back against the grille, and Ryou took advantage of the sudden weak moment to attack.

"No!" Zorc yelled, grabbing at his head.

_I WON'T LET YOU KILL ANYMORE_, Ryou screamed back. He clawed at Zorc's mind, desperate for a better grip, for just a minute's control even if it cost him his life. Anything to set Zorc back and drive the demon away from its goal.

But this time was not like the moment in the Ishtars' mansion. This time Zorc was not caught with his guard down. This time he was too close to the source of his power. With one final shove, he sent Ryou tumbling to the back of his mind, where the tomb robber could do nothing but watch and rage. Then he reached up and grabbed the witch, who had stepped over to him, believing that her spell had worked. He slashed at her wrist with a razor-thin blade of shadow magic, and her hand fell to the floor along with the wand it held.

Zorc pushed the shrieking woman away and climbed to his feet to survey his handiwork. Two men—those hit with the first spells—lay unconscious on the floor, with blood from the man with the slit throat creeping and puddling around them. More blood spattered himself and the lift's walls, and it covered McGibbons with his slashed face. He only whimpered as he sat against the wall. The woman had retreated into the far corner and huddled there, watching him with terrified eyes.

"Nice magic trick, isn't it?" he said to her, holding out his hand. "I can't say I much like it, though. Too unpredictable. Hard to control. You end up cutting too deep and killing too quick. No, I prefer the non-magic way. It's so much more fun." As he spoke, he drew his long knife out from under his shirt. The witch tried to press herself further into the corner, and Zorc laughed at her. "Don't worry. You're conscious. That means you die last. Now you watch, Bakura," he continued, turning to the spell-stunned wizards. "For years, you did this for me in Egypt. Now I give to you this last memory, to keep while you rot in the deepest depths of the underworld for daring to betray me."

_I will watch,_ came the reply. _I will use this to fuel my hatred of you until it grants me the power to destroy you._

Zorc laughed as he knelt in the dark pool beside the closest wizard. "For all that I have show you, still you remain a naïve child, Ryou," he said. "Hatred can never defeat me. It is my greatest nourishment." With that, he raised his knife and began to play.

The first man did not wake up. He died quickly.

The second wizard awoke almost immediately, and Zorc took some time to enjoy his and the witch's screams.

The dead man he passed over, for dead men were no fun. McGibbons barely seemed to know anyone else was there, and he could only cry feebly as the knife bit into his flesh. Zorc stayed with him a little longer anyway, just to enjoy the mounting panic of the witch. The lift's voice startled him, however, with an announcement that a Ministry official was on the way.

"Che," he scoffed, cutting the man's throat. He scooted over to crouch in front of the witch and stroked her face with his hand, leaving a red trail down her cheek. "You get off lucky," he said, and he stabbed her in the heart.

Rising, he stepped to the middle of the lift and breathed deep, inhaling the thick metallic scent of the blood that now covered every surface. He brought the knife to his lips and ran his tongue down the side of the blade. "So many different bloods, but always they taste the same," he murmured. "Don't you agree, thief? I'm surprised you watched the whole show."

_I said I would._

No emotion this time. Even the constant struggling had ceased. Zorc frowned. Did this mean he had finally broken through to the thief who had gladly murdered for him three thousand years ago? Or had the episode been so horrible that the naïve boy was simply numb with shock?

_You have yet to do anything worse than Kul Elna._ Now there was a hint of laughter.

Zorc growled. "Stay out of my thoughts, thief." He looked at the ground. Normally to use shadow magic greater than his shadow blades or invisibility, he would need a playing card, but now he was close enough to the underworld door that he could forego such a medium. "_Trap Hole,_" he said, pushing his magic downward.

The lift's floor cracked and fell away, sending Zorc plummeting down the elevator shaft. He landed easily on his feet at the bottom, and five thunks resounded as the bodies hit the ground around him. It was pitch dark, but some light filtered through a grille that sat on a chest-high ledge above him. Zorc grinned and sent out a silent summons; in seconds the Millennium Ring materialized around his neck. All its points were straining up in the direction of the grille.

"Of course, I feel it too," he said softly, jumping up to the ledge and pulling aside the gate. This was the lowest level of the Ministry. Somewhere just ahead laid the door to the underworld.

* * *

What had at first been a new, incredible, exciting world was fast becoming old and even dreary for Yugi. Kaoru Kishimura stayed close by him every step of the way and would not let him stop to look at anything interesting. He had hoped that this would change once they reached London, but she was still there, hovering over his shoulder. Not that there was much to see here; Kingsley had led them down a hall to a row of lifts, which in turn took them down to the lowest level and opened onto yet another hall. This one was a great deal creepier, with its black walls, heavy black doors, and lack of people but for themselves as one man who stood at the very end of the corridor. Kingsley led them straight to him and stopped. "Anderson," he greeted.

"Minister," the man replied. "You have the artifacts?"

"Our tight-fisted Egyptian friend does," Kingsley said.

"Excuse you," Malik snapped.

Anderson did not even crack a smile. "Minister, I must protest. The Department of Mysteries holds our most sensitive research. Most of our own officials are not allowed here, and to bring in outsiders—especially a witch from a foreign Ministry—is unthinkable."

"And unavoidable," Kingsley told him. "I trust you have a secure room set up for use, and everyone will stay without our sight the entire time. The risk is minimized, but if anything happens I will take full responsibility."

Yugi swallowed a disappointed sigh. It seemed the only magic he would ever see was the Millennium Puzzle. So much for the stories he had promised to bring back to the others.

The man called Anderson argued with Kingsley for a few more minutes, but Yugi couldn't follow them; they spoke too fast in that unfamiliar accent. Instead he stepped closer to Malik and asked, "Hey, can these people really use a lot of magic? I haven't seen very much."

"You've probably still seen more than me," Malik whispered back. "The Portkey trick was impressive at least. Who knows, maybe we'll see something else cool before we leave."

"The secrets of the wizarding world are not for Muggles such as you to know," Kaoru cut in.

Yugi made a face at her. She had been keeping him away from everything while at the same time questioning him constantly about the Millennium Items and the events surrounding them. It hardly seemed fair, and somehow he did not like the idea of telling her about shadow magic, so he dodged the questions as much as possible.

"Killjoy," Malik muttered. "Not that she has any say over me, and I'm the one who has the Items."

Kaoru turned a cold glare on him but could do nothing more as Anderson finally relented and let them through the door behind him. He led the group into a large circular room, black like the hall with doors set at regular intervals along the wall and blue-flamed candles in sconces between them. Yugi shivered. If these modern-day wizards were trying to emulate the creepy atmosphere of the pharaoh's tomb, they were doing very well.

Kingsley stayed back to hold open the door while Anderson walked to another one slightly left of the one straight across the way. Opening it, he ushered them through into a room that looked much more normal. One side had a desk cluttered with various parchments (which Anderson cleared with a wave of his wand), shelves on the other side held a variety of books and strange instruments, and before them was a long, bare table. "The Items here, if you please," Anderson said, tapping the tabletop.

Malik looked at Yugi, shrugged, and opened his briefcase. The Puzzle was the first Item he pulled out, and Yugi couldn't help but pick it up. The familiar weight was comforting, its golden surface unsullied from the time it had spent underground. He remembered how effortlessly Atem had used its power—and how the pharaoh had shielded so much of its magic from him. All he had ever felt from the Puzzle was Atem's presence, and that was gone anyway, so the fact that he could feel nothing now did not mean a thing. _If he had shown me just a little more,_ he wondered, _would I be able to sense now if any magic was left? Would I be able to help Bakura-kun? I know you just wanted to protect me, mou hitori no boku, but—_

A soft gasp from Malik caught his attention. "What?" he asked, setting the Puzzle down.

Malik had pulled out the rest and spread them on the table—all but the Rod. This he held in both hands, a strange expression on his face as he stared at it. "I…there's no need for any tests," he said.

"What do you mean?" Kingsley asked with a frown.

"I mean the Millennium Items definitely still have their power," the Egyptian answered sharply. "But I don't understand. I haven't felt any magic coming from the Rod since the day we dug them up. The underworld tablet was supposed to be the source of their power, and with it smashed…"

"Underworld tablet?" Anderson said. He had taken several instruments off his shelved and now dumped them on the table.

Malik clutched the Millennium Rod closer. "That's none of your business."

"It _is_ my business. I was given orders to analyze these artifacts and determine the scope and ability of any magic they may contain, and therefore—"

"Huh?" Malik said.

Off to the side, Kingsley began to chuckle.

Yugi picked up the Puzzle again, but if Malik spoke the truth about its magic, he still could not feel it. "The underworld tablet was the key to opening the door to the dead," he said in Japanese. "But was it really the source of the Items' power?"

Malik shrugged at him. "That's the belief that was passed down among the Tomb Keepers. But then it makes no sense that they still have any power at all, must less that it's suddenly become stronger."

"Maybe these wizards have some kind of underworld tablet, too."

"I doubt that, and these Items wouldn't be connected to a different one anyway. Unless—" Malik stopped, he face turning pale.

"It would help me to know what you are discussing," Anderson said crossly.

"Unless the underworld tablet wasn't the true source of the Millennium Item's power, but a channel," Malik continued in English. He stepped over to Anderson and grabbed the man's robes. "What sort of 'mysteries' do you study in this place, wizard? Would one of them happen to be death?"

"I-I-I am not authorized—"

Malik shook him into silence. "Do you have an open door to the underworld here?" he yelled.

"U-underworld?"

"_Death, you fool. Death. A door to death!"_

"W-w-well, there's the veil, but…"

"_But what?"_

Yugi winced and looked away, his gaze landing on the table. His heart stopped in his chest. "Ah…guys?"

"_What?"_ Malik dropped Anderson and rounded on Yugi.

The smaller boy pointed at the table. "What happened to the Millennium Ring?"

Malik stared at the table, then slammed the Rod down with a curse. "Zorc. He's still here. He knows."

"And our Japanese Ministry friend is gone," Kingsley chimed in.

Yugi glanced around, and sure enough, Kaoru had snuck out sometime earlier.

"Forget her," Malik said. "Zorc is our problem. We have to keep him away from that door." He grabbed Anderson again. "Show us the way to that veil."

* * *

Kaoru had stepped quietly back toward the office door as soon as Malik had started pulling out the Millennium Items. It had been easy to slip out with everyone's attention on them, whatever Kingsley had said earlier about keeping an eye on her. Of course, she was under orders to find out about them as well, but she knew she could interrogate Yugi later, with Legilimency if she had to. Right now, she was in the British Ministry's Department of Mysteries. Her superiors would surely forgive her for abandoning her post if she brought back information on some of Britain's deepest secrets.

She opened the door and stepped back into the circular room, intent on the next door over. However, as soon as the one to the office clicked closed, the wall began to spin.

"_Shimatta,"_ she whispered. So the place had a defense after all, likely activated as soon as all doors were closed. The British wizards had kept even this from her by holding a door open the whole time. Well, no matter now. She didn't care what she found out, so any door would do. The most this would do was lower her chance of returning to the group undiscovered. Even if she were caught, she had little fear of the British Obliviators.

The wall slowed to a stop, and Kaoru immediately tried the door beside her. Locked. She drew her waned and tried a variety of spells, but none of them had any effect except for the one that rebounded in her face. Cursing again, Kaoru rubbed her stinging cheek and moved on to the next door.

The wall began turning again.

Kaoru froze in place and crossed her arms, fingers tapping against her left bicep. When the rotating stopped, she stepped over to the next door, but she had hardly put her hand on the handle when another door opened across the way. Kaoru flinched and began sifting through her best excuses. "Ah, forgive me," she began, turning around. "But may I ask—"

But it wasn't Kingsley Shacklebolt or any other Ministry wizard. It was that strange boy that everyone was so worried about, Ryou Bakura. The one who had been demon-possessed. Kaoru felt her chest constrict.

No reason to worry prematurely, though. Perhaps he had passed whatever test they put him through and was sent down here to join the investigation into the Millennium Items. Then again, there had not been enough time for the wizards to conclude that the boy was free. Maybe he was lost? "Should you not be upstairs, where you can be tested?" she said coolly.

The boy stepped forward, and she saw the dull glint of the blue candlelight reflecting off an object against his chest. The Millennium Ring. But had that not been in the office with the others? Kaoru took a step back and raised her wand.

"I failed it," the boy said. Now she could see him clearly—and he was covered with some dark liquid. It was hard to make out in the dim blue light. The boy giggled and held out his hand, and Kaoru was startled to see that he held a knife. She tried to fire a curse at him, but for some reason no spell would come to her mind.

"Such a feeble little mind," he said, walking closer. Behind him, the door closed, and the walls began to rotate once more. He seemed not to notice, and he kept talking. "You know the truth, you knew it as soon as you saw me, yet all you can do is scrabble for some other explanation. You can't stand the thought that things exist that are beyond your comprehension, and that's why you're here now, isn't it? Something big happened in Japan, something involving magic, and not a one of you wizards could understand it! For all the investigating and searching and research, you people could find nothing, and so now you resort to trickery to get what you want. Yet you'll never know. It is all beyond your reach."

He was standing right in front of her now. He laid the knife's edge against her cheek. Kaoru hissed out a dozen words hoping to find a good curse, but the boy slammed his fist against her wand, sending it skittering across the floor. "By the way," he said, pointing at his face. "This is blood. And this is why."

Kaoru shrieked as he slashed her face. She pressed both hands to the hot, sticky gush of blood and tried to lunge away, but the boy grabbed her by the throat and shoved her back against the wall just as it stopped turning. "Don't feel too bad, though. You're not the only ones poking noses where they don't belong," the boy said. He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "You see, the British wizards can't accept anything being beyond their reach either. They have to _know_. Take death, for example. They wanted so badly to know the secrets of death that they opened a doorway to the very realm of the dead. I wonder if they thought at all about the consequences of such an act. Just think, by their simple ignorance and foolishness, they have doomed the _entire world_. Not that you'll live to see that."

Kaoru sucked in her breath to scream as the boy stepped back, but all she managed was a squeak as he stabbed her in the gut. He looked at her thoughtfully as she reached out feebly, trying to force some sound other than a croak or gasp past her lips. "I think you would be fun to play with," he said. "Too bad I'm on such a tight schedule." He jerked the knife out of her belly and, looking her in the eyes, drew the blade slowly through her throat. Smiling the whole time.

She fell to the floor, and the last thing she heard was the demon's laughter as her vision faded.

Zorc dropped the knife beside her; he no longer needed it. The Ring's five points were rattling as they strained toward a door to his right, but he did not need that, either. He could feel the power from the underworld rolling over him in waves and singing through his host body's blood. Such power. There were not words enough to describe it. He went over to that door and through it into a room that he paid no heed to at all. The only thing he could see was the door at the other end, and the clear path to it. He ran over to it, shivering in his excitement, and stepped through into the room beyond.

It was a large, darkened chamber with the floor tiered like an amphitheater. In the middle, at the lowest level, was a raised dais, and on that dais was the only thing the room held: a cracked, ancient-looking stone arch from which hung a fluttering black veil. An open door, indeed.

Zorc laughed as he descended the steps to the dais, where he had to stop to save the folly that would enable him to win. He expected some sly comment from his landlord, but his mind was silent. Zorc scowled. Ryou was awake and watching, he knew it. So why wasn't he getting a reaction? Denial, grief, terror, rage, hatred—all these he expected and welcomed. This moment just would not be complete without some outburst of large, helpless emotion from the tomb robber.

Jumping up onto the dais, he said aloud, "Look where we are, Bakura. Do you still think I won't win?"

_I think what you seek will be forever beyond your grasp._

Zorc started a growl that gradually changed into a chuckle. "Ever the fool," he said, holding out a hand to let the ethereal veil slide over the skin of his wrist. It was colder than ice, a chill felt more in the soul than the flesh. A true wisp of the underworld. "Know defeat, traitor, and drown in death with the knowledge that you played a part in aiding my resurrection and ending the world."

He stepped through the veil.


	11. Chapter 11

Yes, I'm aware the some of you wanted to kill me for that cliffhanger. It was motivation to actually write faster. XD I can't promise this will continue because I still don't know what kind of schedule I'm going to have once I get past the field training part of my new job, but I'll do my best. It helps that I've reached the part that's the most fun to write, too. This chapter begins some wild speculation on my part concerning Zorc and the Millennium Items, but I feel entitled to it since there was much left unexplained in the series. If I get anything painfully wrong, feel free to let me know, since I don't have much time for research. Otherwise, please enjoy, and keep the wonderful reviews coming.

Chapter 11

Harry spat a string of curses that would have made Hermione hit him as he ran as fast as he dared down the tight maintenance stairwell. His head pounded with a ferocity that nearly blinded him, and warm blood trickled down his neck and onto his robes. He paid no attention. He couldn't afford to. He had already let his guard down once, and now Zorc was loose in the Ministry.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

How could he have turned his back on Bakura? Malik had warned him all along that Zorc might still be in him, might even be in control of him.

_And I never once believed him, even though I knew there was a chance that Bakura could still be dangerous. The trail of dead people he left in his wake was proof of that. Yet I dropped my guard, and now there's a demon loose in the Ministry of Magic. Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

He reached the landing and barreled through the door into the Atrium. It was crowded, with more witches and wizards milling around it than he had ever seen before. That meant the Ministry lockdown had gone into effect. Harry was glad; he had been afraid that the head of the Auror's office would not take him seriously. For that matter, he had been dubious that his Patronus had worked. It was the first time he had tried using it to send a message.

Harry stepped out of the stairwell and began to push his way through the crowd. To his right, the long rows of fireplaces had been extinguished, and at the end of the hall was the telephone booth, pulled down and locked in place so that no visitors could enter. Ahead of him, on the other side of the new fountain, the crowd around the lifts grew thicker. Right in front of the elevator doors was a black-robed line of Ministry Security wizards. Harry shoved his way through the grumbling wizards until he reached them. "Has anyone found the Dark Wizard?" he asked the first one he saw. Out of simple necessity, he had told the head Auror that Bakura was a Dark Wizard. It would have taken too much time to convince everyone that a demon-possessed boy was among them.

"No, sir," the tall wizard replied. "There are four lifts left to check though."

Harry stared at him blankly for a second. _Sir? This man is at least twice my age._

"Sir, if you would prefer to return to the interrogation room to wait, I believe we can—"

"No! Absolutely not." Harry shook away the surprise at being addressed in a formal manner. There was no time to deal with such trivialities. "This boy is far too dangerous. He has to be handled by an Auror."

The man looked put out, but Harry ignored it. He had a sneaking suspicion that Zorc wasn't on the lifts anymore—he remembered all too well how he had vanished from the net of magic he had been caught in back at the Ishtars' mansion. Hermione's words rang in his ear. _There are plenty of things he might find interesting here,_ she had said. Most of those interesting things were in the Department of Mysteries. So were the Millennium Items.

There was no maintenance stairwell that led to level nine. There were only the elevators. It was a security measure, accord to the wizard who had told Harry about the stairs. But all the lifts had been halted, and it would take too long to get one working again. His only option was to drop straight down the elevator shaft.

"Can you help me get to level nine?" Harry asked the security wizard.

"Of course, sir. I'll send a memo to get a lift working again right away."

"I don't have time for that! _Reducto!_" Harry shot the spell at the nearest grille, which blasted back into the elevator shaft and fell to the bottom with a loud series of clanks. "I've got to go down now, and it would help a lot if you could use a levitation spell on me," he continued, pushing past the man. Putting one hand on the wall for support, he leaned over and looked down the shaft. The bottom was lost to darkness, and he lifted his wand. "_Lumos,_" he muttered, and by that light he could see the ground and the hole in the wall where level nine's entrance was, several yards down. _Not too bad,_ he thought, but his head still swam at the idea of jumping down there.

_No choice. There's a demon down there, and he's my responsibility. I have to stop him._ "Well?" he said, looking back at the security wizard.

"Sir, I've never performed a levitation charm on a person before," the man sputtered. "I'm not so sure I can do it."

"Get some help then," Harry snapped. He looked around to see a couple more security wizards watching them. "You," he said, pointing at one. "Help him get me down there."

The two wizards exchanged incredulous looks, but they raised their wands. "_Wingardium Leviosa,_" they said in unison.

Harry felt a strange sensation as the spell took effect. Weightlessness was something he had never experienced before, and that combined with the throbbing of his head made his stomach roil with nausea. Once again, he shoved the pain and sickness away and instead turned his attention to the elevator shaft as his feet left the ground. Pulling himself in, he pointed his wand down to illuminate the way while he pushed against the wall to lower himself. The two wizards who had cast the spell moved forward and peered down at him in fright as he guided himself down the shaft to the bottom. The trip took less time than he had thought, and soon he was able to grab the grille that blocked the way to level nine. "Okay!" he yelled back up the shaft.

He stumbled as gravity returned, and only his grip on the grille kept him from falling back to the bottom of the shaft. The nausea intensified so sharply that his stomach heaved, but somehow he managed to keep his breakfast down. Moving back, he used another reducto curse to break through the grille, and then he stepped out into the dimly lit hall. Looking down the elevator bank, he saw another lift door gaping open. Harry's jaw clenched; that could only mean he was too late. Zorc was here already. He took off running down the hall to the Department of Mysteries door.

He burst through it into the circular room, and nearly rushed headlong into Yugi, Malik, Kingsley, and an Unspeakable he didn't know as they came out of a door to the side. "What?" he cried, skidding to a halt.

"You!" Malik snarled, turning on him with such a wild look on his face that Harry pointed his wand at him in defense. "You let him get away!"

"_Let_ him?" Harry snapped back as the walls began to spin. "He tricked me!"

"Only because you were stupid and let your guard down!"

Harry sputtered in anger, but he had trouble forming a response. Malik was right, and he knew it. It was the litany he had been repeating in his head ever since he saw Bakura's maniacal grin disappearing from view in that lift.

"_Oi, minna!_" Yugi yelled just as Malik opened his mouth to say more. All of them turn to the white-faced boy, and then turned to look in the direction he was pointing. Harry gasped, Malik growled. The Unspeakable let a high-pitched whimper, but Kingsley made no noise. He only narrowed his eyes and tightened his mouth.

Kaoru lay in a wide puddle of blood, her eyes as open and unseeing as the gash across her throat. As the group stared at her, the walls of the room came to a stop.

"Anderson," Malik said finally. "Show us the way to the veil."

The man seemed not to hear him. He was trembling, his eyes never leaving the woman's body.

"_Now!_" Malik yelled in his ear, and the man jumped.

"Yes, yes, of course," he said. "Of course, of course. Now….which one was it again?"

Malik rolled his eyes in frustration. "Let's just open them all," he said to the others.

"Wait, what do you mean by veil?" Harry asked, though he had an awful feeling that he already knew.

"Well, it seems you stupid wizards have decided to study death by opening a door to the underworld," Malik snapped as he pushed open a door and looked inside. "No doubt Zorc sensed it, and now he's headed right for it." He stepped away, and Kingsley reached over to grab the door before it closed.

"No no, it's over here," Anderson said finally. He cut a wide circle around Kaoru as he hurried to the other side of the room.

Harry watched him go, caught somewhere between panic and horror. Another person had died. Were there any others? Had the demon caught someone else while he had lain on the floor upstairs, trying to gather his wits around the pulsing pain in his head? What did he seek beyond that awful veil? How much more powerful would he be if he got what he wanted?

_How could I have been so stupid? I let him get away._

To his side, Yugi seemed just as frozen. He had knelt beside Kaoru's lifeless form, and with one hand he clutched her kimono sleeve, while the other held tightly to one of the Millennium Items. He didn't respond when Malik called his name, and jumped nearly out of his skin when the Egyptian grabbed his arm.

"Come on," he said. "We don't have time. That goes for you, too," he snapped at Harry. Turning around, he pulled Yugi by the arm over to the door that Anderson was opening. Harry looked over to Kingsley, who inclined his head in the same direction, and together they followed the two foreigners.

"Are you hurt?" Kingsley asked quietly as they entered the next room.

"That damn demon nearly cracked my skull open, but I'll be fine," Harry replied. "What happened down here?"

Kingsley didn't get a chance to answer. Up ahead, Malik gave a shout as he opened the door to the next chamber that sent them all running forward. This room Harry recognized all too well—the amphitheater, the stone dais, the cracked archway. He could almost see Sirius falling back into it all over again.

Except it was not Sirius disappearing through the veil. Each and every one of them watched as Bakura's wild white mane slipped from view through the tattered grey folds.

Silence reigned for the space of two heartbeats, and then Yugi hurtled down the steps, yelling, "_Bakura-kun!_"

"No!" Harry cried, sprinting after him. He caught up to the smaller boy as Yugi started to climb up onto the dais. Harry grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back so forcefully that they both fell over.

Yugi jumped back up and made for the dais again, but this time Kingsley was the one who grabbed him as he and Malik caught up. "Do not," he said. "If you go through that veil, you will die, too."

"'Too?'" Yugi repeated. Then he spouted something in Japanese. Kingsley merely tightened his grip and looked at Malik.

"Yes, Yugi," Malik snapped. "He means that Bakura is dead."

Yugi seemed to wilt. "That…cannot be," he whispered, looking back at the veil. "Why would Zorc do that?"

"Since when has Zorc cared?" the Egyptian replied.

"No, I mean why would he kill himself?"

"He didn't." Malik turned a grim look at the veil. "Zorc's body is sealed in the underworld. He has wanted to reclaim it all this time, and if he does, he will have access to his full power."

"I'm sure it will do him a whole lot of good in the realm of the dead," Harry said with a snort.

Malik turned a cold sneer on him. "You speak as if Zorc were human. He's not. A demon like him can jump between the worlds at will."

"How can you tell?" Harry shouted back. He was sick and tired of Malik's attitude toward him, and his patience finally snapped. "You don't know what will happen any more than I do. I may be new to this kind of magic, but I do remember that the last mess involving this demon happened _three thousand years ago,_ and that most of the records concerning it were destroyed! You didn't even know the name of the pharaoh that ruled during that time! And you want me to believe that you have some special knowledge of what's going on now? I don't buy it."

"I have the knowledge that Pharaoh Atem himself told me after he regained his memories," Malik replied in a deadly quiet voice.

"So now you're falling back on a dead guy that can't possibly confirm anything."

"He's right," Yugi spoke up. He stared at Harry, the look of someone who struggling to hold back despair. "Atem was part of me. I was there…I helped him find his memories. I…I saw what Zorc wanted and what he could do. No one was able to really defeat him then, and we don't have the knowledge to seal him away in the same way now."

That took all the fire out of Harry. He slumped back against the lowest step of the amphitheater and looked up at the veil. It fluttered sharply, and the familiar sound of whispers from just beyond it reached him. Looking away, he said, "It doesn't seem that Zorc wants to come back this time."

"What, you think we're lucky?" Malik snorted. "Think again. He'll come. There is nothing he loves more than bringing death to the living."

"So we shut the door," Harry said as he aimed his wand at the arch.

"No!" squeaked Anderson from his position up in the chamber's doorframe. "You cannot destroy that arch! There's no telling what might happen if you try."

"And it would be a waste of time anyway," Malik chimed in. "Zorc can just open another himself now. And if you manage to close this one without somehow killing us all, he might emerge somewhere else in the world."

"If such is the case, then we must contain him here," Kingsley said, drawing his wand.

Yugi looked up at him with wide eyes. "How?"

For the first time ever, Kingsley looked uncertain. "The net we used a couple of days ago may work."

"That one that he got out of in a few seconds when he was just a spirit in a teenage boy?" Malik said.

"You have any better ideas?" Harry snapped at him. "You're the one who knows about this shadow magic."

"You mean the shadow magic that barely managed to seal Zorc back when it was at its most powerful?" Malik shot back. "You're the one who knows about all the latest and greatest magic."

"Which it seems has little effect on him. I tried Stunning him after he hit me, and he shook it right off." Harry shook his head and stood up straight. "I give up," he said to Kingsley. "Hermione would be better help at this than me; I'm going to find her if that's all right, sir."

"You need not ask my permission, Harry. We need all the help we can find."

Harry nodded and turned to leave the chamber. However, he had only just jumped up to the second tier when the ground beneath him began to rumble. He whirled back around and stared at the veil, which was no longer fluttering—it was whipping as if a high wind was blowing through it. Behind him, he heard Anderson shriek in terror, and turned long enough to watch the man's robes disappear as he ran away. Yugi's shout brought his attention back to the veil as the trembling intensified.

An enormous clawed hand reached through the veil and slammed against the floor, clutching and scratching long grooves through the stone. Then it reached forward, grasped the edge of the dais, and pulled. A muscular arm appeared, followed by a shoulder, and then somehow, impossibly, a great horned head squeezed through the arch.

Harry backed up until he stumbled over the next tier and fell, then he scooted back until he hit the side of the next step. Dimly he noticed the others scrambling away from the arch as well, but most of his attention stayed on the spectacle before him. Zorc continued to pull himself through the arch, his body squeezing through the tiny space and puffing out as it emerged. First his other arm, then torso, great leathery wings stretching out to slam against the opposite walls of the chamber, then another _head_.

Finally the beast extracted its legs and stood up, a great long tail sliding out last. It had to stoop, and still its horns brushed the ceiling, but it seemed not to care. Its great glowing blood-red eyes had found Harry, and it widened its mouth in a gruesome, tooth-filled parody of a grin.

"What good does your little stick do you now, mortal?" Zorc growled.

Harry could not begin to answer. He was quite sure that he was about to die.

The demon reared back as much as he was able and laughed. "Let the world know darkness and weep," he said. "Zorc Necrophades lives again!"

He reached up and began to claw through the ceiling.

* * *

All the wizards in the atrium felt the rumble. The noise level rose, and the crowd around the elevators pressed forward as everyone began to demand to know what was going on. "Everything is all right," the tall security wizard shouted above the crowd. "The vibrations are just a normal part of Ministry security measures."

In truth, he had no idea what was causing the shaking. He was just as confused and worried as everyone else, but it was his duty to keep the crowd under control. He had no desire to be crushed by a panicked mob. His efforts seemed to be in vain, however. Only a couple of witches seemed to hear him, and they were too caught up in the mob's emotions to pay any heed.

The rumbling suddenly spiked in intensity, coupled with a sharp _boom_ that echoed throughout the atrium. The gathering shrieked and began to push at each other, but there was no way to tell what was happening and there was nowhere else to go.

There was another great shake and a _boom_, and this time the fountain tilted. People scrambled to get away from it, but it was too late. The fountain raised a foot out of the ground and then exploded, chunks of gold and stone flying everywhere as some water vaporized and the rest sprayed in every direction. Those unfortunate enough to be standing nearby were hit and sometimes crushed by the flying debris, or burned by the superheated steam and water. The rest watched in horror as a great black monster rose through the jagged gap in the floor and jumped straight up to the roof, ripping at it with its claws.

So it went on every floor as Zorc tore his way up through the Ministry. On every floor, witches and wizards were caught by surprise and sometimes hurt or killed by flying debris as the demon burst violently through the floor and continued on to the next level. Those who were close enough heard his wild laughter and ran away trembling.

On the fifth level, Ron and Hermione heard the crashes and screams and came running out of the library to investigate just in time to see Zorc's legs and tail disappearing through a hole in the roof. A piece of the stone ceiling fell close enough to almost crush them, but they stayed where they were, wondering what had happened and terrified that Harry had been hurt.

Zorc did not stop when he reached the first level. Much like the wizards below, the Muggles in the streets above had felt the rumblings of the demon's rebirth and destructive climb, and many had gathered in the streets in an effort to pinpoint the source. When Zorc burst through into the midmorning air, several people went flying along with the pieces of the road and various cars. The rest scattered, trampling anything in their path as they tried to get away.

Zorc ignored them and jumped onto the nearest building, using his claws and wings to ascend it. This was not the tallest skyscraper in the city, or even in the area, but it was enough for him. He reached the top and looked around at the spread of London. So many _people_, and so close together. This, he knew, was not even the biggest city in the world. All these foolish mortals had packed themselves in like sardines, so much the easier for him to eat. Or just play with. Zorc grinned, and then he turned his face to the sky and let out a roar so loud that it could be heard in every corner of London. The building he stood on creaked and groaned, but he paid it no mind. The moon shone faintly in the sky not too far away. Zorc reached out and used his power to pull it from its track, bringing it closer to the sun. _Let there be no more light._

* * *

The land seemed familiar. Sand dunes stretched as far as he could see in every direction, thought that was not very far. The pale misty brown of windblown sand obscured the distant view, even though there was no wind. Above, the sky was black as if on a cloudy night, yet the slightly oppressive feeling that clouds gave to the air was not present. He was not even sure there was air, not in this place. There was no source of light either, and yet he could see every bland detail.

_What a bleak place death is._

There was really nothing he could complain about. He had brought this on himself: first for forging a pact with the demon, and then for allowing it to control him and use him to rampage through the living world until it found its way here. He had vowed revenge, but he could do nothing. The demon had had too much power, and it was power that he had given it. Bakura had no one but himself to blame.

He wondered if there was anything more to the underworld. Here was where Zorc's body had lain, silent and inert until the demon had jumped joyfully into it. It had not used the Millennium Ring or any other magic; it had simply ripped itself away from Bakura. There had been a flash of mind-numbing pain, but Bakura did not die from it. Of course not. He was already dead. Here, in the world of the dead, the living could not be. There, the world of the living, he could not go. All the knowledge he had was now useless. He could not help Malik or Yugi. He could only stay here and wait for them.

Something moved at the edge of his vision. He turned to it and stood still as a smaller figure formed through the fog, walking toward him. Another dead person, of course. Bakura wondered who it was. Anubis, perhaps, coming to weigh the deeds of his heart and render judgment. He could just skip the process, as far as the thief was concerned. His heart belonged to Ammit the Devourer; he could not deny that. Yet as this figure came closer, he saw that it was much shorter than an Egyptian god would be.

Then he recognized the outline of the hair and thought for a heart-stopping minute that Yugi had come here as well. It figured that Zorc would target the Pharaoh's vessel first.

But then the walking man broke through the sand-fog, and Bakura realized with relief that it was not Yugi. This one was taller, his skin darker, and he wore the clothes and trappings of his station in life. This was Pharaoh Atem. Even after all this time and despite how much he had changed, Bakura could not help but feel disgust and annoyance at his presence.

Atem stopped in front of him. "You do not belong here," he said.

"Oh?" Bakura replied. "This isn't hell? By all means then, point me in the right direction and I'll be out of your way."

"I do not mean that," the pharaoh said. He raised a hand and pointed at the thief's chest. "You are alive. You do not belong here in the underworld. You should go back, and fix what you have set in motion."

Bakura blinked in shock and looked down. It was the first time he had taken any notice of his own body, and he was surprised to find that he looked the way he had originally: larger, thicker, with dark skin and the red overcoat he had stolen from the tomb of Atem's father. Against his chest, the Millennium Ring still hung, glowing faintly. "Is this keeping me alive, then?" he asked, picking it up.

Atem said nothing.

"What are you doing here?" the thief asked him, letting go of the Ring. "Is the afterworld such a small place, or have you just been waiting to torture me? The gods know I deserve it."

"After I passed through the door, I was met by the original wielders of the Millennium Items," Atem said. "My old friends and advisors from my time as pharaoh. They had been watching over Zorc's sealed body in death just as they had watched over Egypt in life. They told me the truth. Even though I thought I had destroyed Zorc, his spirit still roamed free in the living world and would try to make its way back here. So I too took up the vigil. If Zorc managed to come back here, we would not be able to stop him, yet we knew that he would need a living vessel to bring him here, and so it was for that that we waited."

"And here I am." Bakura spread out his arms. "Happy to see me?"

"Not particularly."

The thief grinned. At last he had broken through the stiff, formal façade that Atem had put up. But this was serious business, so he pushed aside the impulse to keep throwing barbs at the pharaoh. "I can defeat Zorc for good, but I will need help," he said.

Atem's eyes widened. Whatever he had been expecting, this clearly was not it.

"Do not be so surprised, pharaoh. You knew me once as two different people. The one you think you see now, who reviled and plotted revenge on you for the sins of your uncle, and the reincarnation who befriended your vessel and was plagued by an evil spirit." Bakura looked down at his hands. "I am both now, and neither. And I want only one thing: to defeat Zorc."

He looked back up to see that the pharaoh had reassembled his expressionless mask. "Such a task will not be easy, thief. Have you any plan?"

"I have the plan left by the wizards who first separated Zorc from his body and sealed the two away. Those were the same ones who wrote the Millennium Book, from which Aknadin attained the knowledge to make the Millennium Items."

"I remember it well," Atem said. "But it was stolen long before we could translate any other spell."

Bakura snorted. "Of course. It was stolen by me. It was the first task Zorc assigned to me after I forged a pact with him. He wanted it destroyed because it contained the final secret for defeating him. What he did not realize was that through our pact I had gained the power to understand it, and I read every word of it before I burned it."

"Then you know what must be done," Atem said with sadness in his voice.

"I suppose you do as well."

"I have spoken with the spirits of the wizards who first sealed the demon. There can be no guarantee that anyone will survive this."

Bakura gave a helpless laugh. "Everyone will die anyway if Zorc is allowed to remain free. This is a last resort, after all. And maybe we will be able to find a way to reverse the merger. Magic has evolved since our time, after all."

"Perhaps." But Atem did not look hopeful.

"I will need your help, pharaoh," Bakura said. Again he could not help but enjoy the shocked look on Atem's face, and again he pushed the feeling away. "You are the only one who is able to wield the rage of the Egyptian gods. Yugi is strong, but he does not have the magic like you."

"My place is here," Atem said, though he clearly longed to return to his host. "Even Yugi agreed. That is why he dueled me to defeat."

"He didn't know what we do now, and he will join you here soon enough if you do not come with me." Bakura extended his hand, and he knew he had won. Atem could not bear the thought of Yugi dying, not so soon. The pharaoh reached for the proffered hand, and their fingers passed into each other. Stepping forward, Atem kept going until he melded completely into Bakura's body. Both found the act distasteful, and both bore it only because it was temporary. Bakura kept iron-hard walls up around most of his mind, allowing the pharaoh access only to what he could see and hear around him. That was just fine with Atem; he had no desire to see into the twisted and broken corridors of the thief's mind, and he kept his own mental barriers high and strong. Soon enough he would be back within the safe familiarity of the puzzle and Yugi's mind, and together they could chase Zorc.

Bakura looked down at his Ring. "Show me the open door," he said softly, and four points lifted and pulled to the left.

"It's close, pharaoh," he said. "I hope you're ready."

He started walking.


	12. Chapter 12

I'm sure this is not the most stellar of chapters, but it's past my bedtime and an update is long overdue. If there are any typos or if I repeated anything anywhere, be sure to let me know in a review and/or pm, and I'll go back and change it. Just might take a few days since I've been working overtime lately. Yeah, yeah, getting hit by a fire truck while on duty should make me want to work less, but I like my job and I need the money. I should also get the next chapter out quicker since I no longer have to sit around and wrack my brains for a decent way to represent an epic spell. Love to everyone and please review.

Chapter 12

After Zorc reached street level, the deafening noise of his ascent was replaced with the shrieks and cries of terrified wizards. Dust hung thick in the air, diffusing the pale light that filtered from above so that the air became misty gray. This was all Harry registered as he finally rose from the corner he had dove to when the demon first began ripping chunks of rock out of the ceiling.

He coughed a little and looked up, but the dust settled on his glasses so that he couldn't see, and wiping them on his equally dirty robes didn't help. "Kingsley!" he called. "Sir, are you there?"

"I'm here," the Minister answered from somewhere ahead of him. "Is anyone hurt?"

"I'm fine," Harry said, stumbling over some debris as he made his way forward.

"We're still alive for now." Malik's sour voice came from somewhere to the left. Harry gritted his teeth against a sharp reply.

"Everyone come to the center then," Kingsley said. "We need to stay together until we figure out what to do."

"What we do?" Malik demanded. "What is there to do? Every plan I knew of involved keeping this from happening."

"And now that it has happened anyway, we're going to find a way to fix it," Harry snapped at him. He reached the dais and leaned against it next to Kingsley, who looked like a grey ghost. Above them, the stone archway stood untouched as if nothing had happened, the veil fluttering as it always had. Somehow though, it seemed to be different. Harry stared at it as Malik and Yugi reached them, both coughing as they tried to breathe the dust-choked air.

"So?" the Egyptian boy said. "What's your big plan to fix this?"

"Kill Zorc," Harry answered flatly. "When you're done being so critical of me, maybe you could help me figure out how."

Malik opened his mouth, but no comment came out. As loathe as he was to admit it, the wizard had a point. Being rude and sarcastic was a waste of time while Zorc had the run of London.

"_If Atem were here, he would know what to do,"_ Yugi murmured in Japanese.

"Don't start that," Malik said, sitting down with a sigh. "The wizards in ancient times couldn't kill Zorc, so I doubt the pharaoh would be of much help."

"You sound like you've already given up," Harry said.

"Well sorry," Malik snapped at him. "It must have something to do with watching thousands of years of my family's work go up in smoke."

"I thought the two of you had agreed to not fight," Kingsley said. He spoke in a mild tone, but both boys looked away in embarrassment. Everything fell quiet then, except for the cries of distress above them, and it was then that Harry realized what seemed different about the veil. He no longer heard the voices that had once whispered to him from the other side. Zorc's rebirth had even silenced the dead.

The light, already dim and murky, began to fade even further, and chunks of the ceiling fell to the ground nearby. Harry yelped as flying gravel pelted his face. "I vote we get out of here before we do anything else. Which way is the door?"

"Harry!" called a voice from above before anyone could answer. "Is that you, mate?"

"Ron?" Harry yelled back. He looked up, saw nothing, muttered "_Lumos,_" raised his lit wand, and still saw nothing.

"Harry, are you all right?" cried Hermione's shrill voice.

"I'm fine. What about you?"

"We're okay! Stay there, Harry, we'll come down to you."

"No!" Harry called. "Hermione, wait, it's too dan—" He was cut off as another cascade of debris fell nearby.

"Keep your voice down!" Kingsley said. "The ceiling is too unstable to be yelling back and forth at one another."

"In that case, we should get out of here before people start wandering down and asking what happened," Malik said. He pulled himself back up and tried to rub some of the dirt off his face, but only smeared it around. "I think the arch was facing the way we came in, so we should be able to get out by walking straight ahead…if we're not crushed to death. Got any spells to keep us alive long enough to even see Zorc again?"

Harry sighed and didn't bother to answer. Together they started walking through the gloom toward the first step of the amphitheater, but they had barely made it when Yugi suddenly stopped.

"What?" Harry asked him as they all looked back.

"My Puzzle," he responded. "It is…warm."

Harry looked down at the golden pyramid cradled in Yugi's hands. Strangely, it was untouched by the dirt that hung in the air; it even glowed faintly. "Wait, has it always done that?" he asked.

Beside him, Malik muttered a curse in Arabic. "Only when its power is being accessed."

Yugi looked up with wide eyes. "_Masaka._ Zorc—"

"No," came a voice from the dais. Everyone turned in that direction and stared in shock.

A figure stood in the arch, a shadow within the ethereal light of the veil. A golden glow that matched that of Yugi's Puzzle emanated from his chest. The figure walked forward, away from the arch, and stepped off the dais. By then he was close enough for the light from Harry's and Kingsley's wands to reach him through the filthy air, and they could see that it was Bakura.

They could see it, but none of them could quite believe it.

In the resounding silence, Bakura walked right up to Yugi and grabbed his head. Malik shouted, and both wizards snapped their wands around to point at the white-haired boy. No one had time to do anything more though, as both the Millennium Ring and the Puzzle pulsed with a light so brilliant that all three were forced to turn away and cover their eyes. The glow faded as quickly as it had flared, leaving the Ring inert, though the Puzzle retained a soft light. Bakura let Yugi go and backed away a step.

Harry immediately whipped his wand back up at the white-haired boy. "Reduc—" he started, but Malik shoved him aside, interrupting the spell as he sprinted toward his two friends. The young wizard growled a curse as he stood up and rubbed his sore knee. Readying his wand, he opened his mouth to try the curse again, only to be stopped this time by Kingsley's hand on his arm.

"I understand how you feel, Harry," he said. "But you cannot assume that he is an enemy. Watch how those who know him react, then judge the best course."

"Kingsley, he tried to kill me."

"Did he?" Kingsley replied. "Or was it the thing that came through the veil before him?"

Harry pulled his arm away, but he knew that the older wizard was right. His head still pounded from the blow he had received upstairs, but when he looked at Bakura (now talking to Yugi and Malik with no trace of fear or wariness among any of them), he saw nothing of the manic violence the younger man had displayed earlier. Yet still, something about him was unsettling. It was with trepidation and a tightly gripped wand that Harry approached him.

"What is going on?" he demanded. "How—how did you…?" His gaze flicked to the veil and back to Bakura's face.

The young man smiled a little and lifted the Millennium Ring.

Harry only kept staring at him, unable to understand what the gesture meant.

"The Millennium Ring protected you," Kingsley said. He stepped up beside Harry, his posture much more at ease though he also had not yet put his wand away. "How?"

"There will be time enough for questions and answers later," Bakura replied, letting the Ring drop back to his chest. "Right now we have a demon to kill, and we must act quickly if we are to have any chance at all."

"Then I hope you already have a plan, because I have no idea where to begin and _he_ hasn't been much help." Harry jerked his head at Malik.

The Egytian did not rise to the bait; he didn't even look in Harry's direction. His eyes were fixed on Yugi, and he asked a question in a language that didn't quite sound like Japanese or Arabic. The smaller boy gave a lengthy reply in the same language. Before Harry could complain, Malik turned to him sharply and said, "We need the rest of the Millennium Items."

"What for?" the young wizard snapped.

"For a spell," Yugi said in a voice that made Harry turn around and give him a closer look. It was deeper than his usual voice, and flavored with a strange accent that he could not identify. That was not the only difference, either. Yugi seemed taller somehow, and there was a steady confidence in his gaze that wasn't typical of his age. In fact, Hary would have sworn that right then he was not looking at a teenager, but at someone far, far older. "A spell that will defeat Zorc?" he asked.

"No, but it will help," the older-Yugi said. "We will need your help as well, wizard. Can you trust us to know what to do to win?"

"We have no choice," Kingsley said. "Whatever you need from us, I can help you get."

A faint roar reached their ears from above, and a tremor ran through the ground, punctuated by the sound of falling debris and a new layer of dust clouding the air. Harry swallowed all his questions and confusion and nodded his agreement with Kingsley's words. Now was not the time for stubbornness.

"We need the Millennium Items first," Bakura said. "Once we have everything prepared, we will need as many people who know how to fight as we can find, preferably people who have known many who have died."

Harry's gut twisted painfully. "We've only recently survived a war; most of the wizards here qualify on both counts. Why in the world would that matter, anyway?"

"Zorc Necrophades is not a denizen of the living world, so thus he cannot be killed here," the older-Yugi said. "The world of the dead is where he must be slain, and with the aid of the dead."

"So…this spell with the Millennium Items will drive Zorc back into the world of the dead?" Harry asked, hoping fervently that the strange group wasn't going to tell him that he would also be going there for the final battle. However, what Bakura said next was much worse.

"No." The white-haired boy gave him a chilling little smile. "We are going to bring the world of the dead into our own."

Ron and Hermione found them in the round room just as they were bringing the Millennium Items back to the veil. "Harry!" Hermione cried, flinging her arms around her friend. "You're filthy! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Hermione, but I don't have time to talk right now," he told her. "Are you okay?" He looked over her head at Ron to include him in the question as he kept walking.

"We were just shaken, mate," Ron said. "Can you at least tell us what happened? Looks like whatever it was broke this room."

Indeed, the room had a large crack across the floor, and a few stones had fallen from the ceiling. The blue candles still shone, but it had not moved when Malik and Harry came through it to get the Items and closed the door behind them, and it wasn't moving now. Harry only counted that as a blessing; Anderson had run away to who knew where, so they would not have had a guide to get them through the right doors if the room's defenses still worked.

Now he followed Malik to the door that would take them back to the veil, carrying the Millennium Scales and Ankh. Inert only a scant hour before, they now thrummed in his hands, and he was eager to be rid of them. As they walked, he summed up the events of the past hour as quickly as he could. The looks of growing horror on his friends' faces were almost too much to bear, and he cursed his own inability to stop the disaster.

"Harry, you can't blame yourself for this," Hermione said, correctly interpreting the look on his face. "It would have happened whether or not you were there."

"I let my guard down," Harry answered bitterly.

"Sure did," Malik muttered.

"And if you hadn't, he would have killed you," Ron said, shooting a glare at the Egyptian boy. "We saw the bodies at the bottom of the lift, mate. You got off lucky any way you look at it."

"Thanks," Harry muttered, although he didn't feel any better. Remembering the five dead wizards in the lift shaft made his stomach churn.

The dust in the veil's chamber had finally settled, so Bakura saw them right as they entered and jumped up the tiers to get the Millennium Items. He shot a curious look at Hermione and Ron but spared no time for questions. Instead, he gathered the Items and jumped back down to the dais, where the Ring, Puzzle, and Rod were already arranged around the arch.

"Er, is there anything else you need?" Harry asked, watching him place the rest of the Items in the circle.

"Yes, enough quiet for me to concentrate," Bakura replied. He settled down within the circle of Items, facing the veil, and stared at it as if it were his mortal enemy instead of Zorc.

"He looks scared," Hermione said quietly.

Ron snorted. "I don't see why. What could possibly go wrong with trying to mix the living world with the dead one?"

Malik shot him a dirty look, but he didn't say anything as Yugi stepped forward and knelt beside Bakura.

"Out of the circle, pharaoh," Bakura snapped.

Yugi didn't move. "You will need help in this."

"I started this mess," the white-haired boy replied. "I will be the one to finish it."

"You can try," Yugi said, standing up. "But I will help if I have to. You're not alone anymore, Bakura." He turned around and walked back to the edge of the dais where the wizards and Malik were waiting, and so he missed the grateful glance that Bakura threw his way.

"Pharaoh?" Hermione asked him quietly as he faced the veil again and sat down on the platform's edge. He spared her only a brief, unreadable look and focused his attention on the spell that Bakura had just begun to chant in that strange language he had spoken earlier.

"Atem came back through the veil with Bakura," Malik told her. "I trust your friend here has already told you his story and his connection to Yugi. He used his connection with the Millennium Items to reestablish it so he could help us."

Hermione looked back to the younger boy with awe. "Harry told me about it, but it wasn't a very believable story."

"I believe it now," Ron said as the Millennium Items began to glow softly.

Harry leaned forward beside Atem. He felt strange—on one hand, the boy still looked like the innocent young man he had met in Bakura's Tokyo apartment, but on the other hand his eyes held that ancient look that betrayed his origins and heritage. How was he supposed to act toward a three-thousand-year-old Egyptian pharaoh? In the end, he simply asked the question on and prayed he wasn't being offensive.

"Sir, can you tell us what he's saying?"

And to his surprise, Atem answered.

"He calls on the power of the Items. They are linked to death because of the ritual that created them: the flesh and blood of one hundred people were melted into their gold. He will summon these spirits first, and others will follow."

"How are spirits going to make the worlds merge?" Ron asked.

"By tearing down the barrier between them." Atem inclined his head toward the arch. "The barrier exists at the threshold of every doorway. Usually it represents itself as light. Here it manifests as a veil. When the veil is torn, the worlds will no longer be separate, but one. The Millennium Items hold the power to do this, but they are inert objects. The barrier can only be harmed by beings, be they living or spirit, and so Bakura now uses a spell to transfer that power to the spirits of the dead."

"How horrible," Hermione whispered. She turned to look at Harry, her face very pale even in the golden light of the Items. "Can you imagine if Voldemort had this kind of power?"

"He wouldn't have used it," Harry replied. "He was too afraid of death."

All the Millennium Items suddenly gave off a pulse of light, forcing everyone to shield their eyes. They faded quickly back to the steady bright glow they had achieved during Bakura's chant, and Harry lowered his arm to gawk at the scene before him.

Bakura no longer sat alone in the circle of Items. On either side of him knelt a lovely woman and a young girl, both smiling at him though their eyes showed great sadness. Bakura himself kept his gaze on the veil, but a single tear trace a trail down his cheek.

"He calls for the spirits of the dead by name now," Atem said. "I only hope he knows enough."

"How many spirits will it take to bring down the barrier?" Hermione asked as a dark-skinned woman in strange clothes walked silently out of the arch. The new spirit took her place in front of the white-haired boy and reached out with a spectral hand to touch his cheek.

Atem's answer to Hermione was grim. "Many."

An Egyptian man walked out of the veil and joined the woman, and another followed soon after. From far above, Zorc's roar echoed through the air. Harry swallowed, and on impulse he jumped up on the dais and walked over to the ritual. Just outside the circle of Items, he hesitated, unsure of what he thought he could do to help. Just then, another woman walked out of the veil, holding the hand of a toddler who had to be no more than two years old.

_Are these the people that died to make the Millennium Items, like Atem said?_ Harry thought first. _My God, they killed even children?_

Then he wondered, _How many children has Zorc killed already?_

_How many is he killing right now?_

He stepped into the circle. Bakura did not acknowledge his presence or slow his chant in the least, but a couple of spirits moved aside to make room for him. "I'm pretty sure you can hear me," Harry began. "And I'm sorry, I know you wanted to do this alone. But this is my world too, and my friends that are in danger. I won't sit back and watch you fail just to satisfy your own guilty conscience when I can summon more help."

Bakura didn't respond, but the girl sitting beside him looked at Harry and smiled. He took that as encouragement and faced the arch, raising his wand for good measure. The veil, which always before had only fluttered, now flapped as if buffeted by a strong wind. Harry watched it nervously for a second, and then he tightened his grip, curled his free hand into a fist, and uttered his first name. "James Potter."

Three more of the strange Egyptians walked through the veil to join the crowd. Feeling stupid but still determined, Harry shifted his feet and raised his wand a little higher. "James Potter!" he called again, louder this time.

"'I summon James Potter forth from Death's realm by the power of Millennia,'" said a quiet voice behind him.

Harry spared a glance back to see Atem. The pharaoh had a faint smile on his face, as if he approved of the wizard's bold action. For some reason, that only made Harry feel more awkward. Turning back to the veil, he repeated the new phrase.

The next spirit to walk through the veil was his father.

James Potter moved to stand beside his son, laying a hand on his shoulder. Harry couldn't feel it, but he drew strength from the gesture anyway. "I summon Lily Potter forth from Death's realm by the power of Millennia," he continued. "I summon Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore forth from Death's realm by the power of Millennia." His voice cracked on his former mentor's ridiculously long name, for he could not help but stifle a small laugh. "I summon Sirius Black forth from Death's realm by the power of Millennia."

He felt Ron and Hermione enter the circle as well, lending their voices to the call, and he tried not to repeat the names that they began to call.

"…Fred Weasley…"

"…Remus Lupin…"

"…Nymphadora Tonks…"

"…Severus Snape…"

"…Cedric Diggory…"

Soon Kingsley's deep voice joined the chorus, calling for people who had died in the first war, long before Harry could have ever known them.

"…Fabian Prewitt…"

"…Gideon Prewitt…"

"…Marlene McKinnon…"

"…Dorcas Meadowes…"

"…Emmeline Vance…"

And so the chants went on, and slowly the room filled with the smiling, sorrowful spirits of the dead. Not all of those called came through the veil, but Harry could sense them on the other side, ready to help tear down the barrier.

They all stopped at the same time, and the sudden silence seemed louder than their combined voices. The spirits all stood at the ready, looking at Bakura. He barked out four harsh words, making Harry wince, and the glow from the Millennium Items grew and expanded, becoming a glow that seemed to come from the air all around them. It was a strange kind of light, obscuring the surroundings instead of revealing them. Harry looked around, but he could see nothing clearly except the spirits surrounding him. So many faces that he thought to never see again. He wanted dearly to talk to them, tell them that their deaths had not been in vain, that life had gotten better after Voldemort's defeat…for a little while, at least. However, he feared that to speak now would break the spell.

From somewhere behind him, Bakura snapped out another command, and as one, all the spirits lifted their hands, positioning them as if they were finding cracks in the light that Harry couldn't see. One last time, the white-haired boy spoke, and the spirits _pulled_.

A low, bone-chilling moan echoed through the chamber as the light crumbled into nothing.

In the center of the arch, the veil tore in half and fell to the ground.


	13. Chapter 13

I am so sorry for the delay in this update. I do most of my writing at work, and for a couple of months my shift was severely understaffed. Thankfully, that has been recently rectified, along with a bit of writer's block, and I was able over the last week to work out exactly how this final battle would go. I sure hope you enjoy it, and I sincerely thank everyone for their patience and reviews. Only one chapter left after this!

Chapter 13

The room faded to darkness.

It was not the same darkness as before, however. That had been the simple lack of light. Now, Bakura could look around and see everything. The arch in front of him, its torn veil hanging still and silent. The hole in the ceiling far above, which now did not let in even the slightest glimmer of light. Yugi, Malik, and the wizards all gathered around. And interspersed among them, filling the whole of the chamber, the spirits that were no longer spirits.

Bakura stood on shaking legs and reached out with a hand to touch his mother's face. She smiled and put her hand over his, holding it to her cheek. At the same time, his little sister Amane wrapped her arms around his waist, and he put his free hand on her head. "I've missed you," he said quietly.

"As have we," his mother said. "But now is not the time, Ryou. We know why you have called us here."

"I can help too, can't I?" Amane asked, bouncing on her toes.

"Of course you can," Bakura told her with a smile. Then he stepped away from them and turned to face his first parents, eyes downcast. He could hardly believe he had ever forgotten them, and the thought of what he had unleashed in the name of vengeance for them.

"What is done cannot be undone, Bakura," his first-father said. "Think not on the mistakes of the past, but instead on what you can do now."

It was not forgiveness, not really, but it was what the white-haired boy needed to hear. He nodded and turned to the wizards, finding many more scenes of reunion. Harry clung to a red-haired woman, while a man who looked too much like him to be anyone but his father rubbed his back. Beyond him, Kingsley and the two wizards he didn't know were also greeting and conversing with the dead that they knew.

Malik moved up beside him. "Quite the spectacle. Can we get on with it now?"

"Of course," Bakura said, turning to Yugi. "Pharaoh—" He stopped in surprise, and then wondered why he would be. The world of the dead was now one with the living. Atem no longer needed to possess Yugi. Of course he would be standing beside the boy instead.

"Zorc must realize by now what is happening," the pharaoh said, ignoring Bakura's moment of shock. "We have to get to him quickly."

"Of course," Bakura said. He turned and walked over to Harry. "Reunion time is over," he said shortly. "We must go."

Harry took two steps back and gave him a hard look. "Go how?" he asked. "The Ministry's lifts aren't working, and none of the stairs come down to this level."

"So?" Malik butted in. "What, did you think Zorc would just magically pop back here when the spell ended? We have to go to him, and you're the guys with the magic. Can't you just fly up there or something?"

"If I had a broomstick, but I didn't exactly think I would need one today," Harry retorted. "If our magic even works properly now—"

"—We could always just Apparate," the girl wizard cut in. "Honestly, Harry, you just have to think sometimes."

Bakura shook his head and sent out a silent call. "I do not care how you get to the surface," he said as Diabound materialized behind him. "Only that you do." With barely a thought, he commanded his soul's monster to pick him up, and together they sped upward.

He managed to ignore the eight levels of destruction that was the Ministry of Magic, but as Diabound carried him up into the blackened sky, he couldn't help but cringe at the rubble that marked Zorc's path through London. Every one of those deaths was on his hands.

"Well, at least we know where to find him," said Malik.

Bakura looked down to find the Egyptian god monster Osiris hovering just below him, with Yugi, Atem, and Malik riding on its back. "The wizards?" he asked them.

"They said they would App-ar-ate to the battle." Yugi pronounced the unfamiliar word slowly and then shrugged. "Whatever that means."

"It means they were too chicken to try the Duel Monsters," Malik said. "But as long as they get there—hey, wait!"

"Bakura!" Atem yelled.

Bakura barely heard them. His attention was squarely on the monster he was flying toward. Let the others sit around and banter if they wished. Zorc sat in the distance, red eyes glowing as it looked back toward them, and the thief had three thousand years of pent-up rage to take out on it.

* * *

Harry staggered a little and drew in a breath of blessed air (_if this is still air I'm breathing_) as Ron, Hermione, and Kingsley materialized around him. "Whoa, is it just me, or was that worse than usual?" Ron asked, rubbing his head.

"It was worse," Harry agreed. Apparating up to street level in this new combined world had been a new experience in…not exactly pain. It had the same horrible squeezing sensation as usual, but this time it was accompanied by a bone-deep chill that he couldn't seem to shake off.

"At least we _can_ Apparate," Hermione said. "Otherwise we would be stuck in the Department of Mysteries. Zorc must have destroyed the anti-Apparition spell when he…" She trailed off and looked down at the giant hole in the street.

"When he destroyed the Ministry," Ron finished, earning him several dirty looks. "What?"

Harry just shook his head and turned to look at the rubble-strewn path Zorc had left in his wake. The ground shuddered beneath his feet, and in the distance the demon roared. The foreigners had commenced their attack. He could see them in the distance, a slim, twisting red line against a shadow as large as a skyscraper. Bakura wasn't visible at all. "How are we supposed to fight this thing?" he asked.

"You will find a way."

He turned to look at Lily Potter's pale face. Other ghosts were silently appearing all around them, and the Egyptian ghosts flew overhead, following the white-haired boy who had summoned them. Harry wished he could leave this mess to them. _This is still my case,_ he chastised himself. _ And my world, too. But…_ "No one has ever defeated it before," he said to his mother. "How can we hope to?"

"You are the one who defeated Voldemort," his father said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "If anyone can figure it out…"

"Voldemort wasn't quite this bad," Harry muttered. _At least he was still a man who could die despite his best efforts._ In the distance, a brilliant red fireball cut through the thin mists, and the ground shook with the force of the explosion. The great dragon that Atem had summoned was silhouetted against the light, diving at the dark bulk of the demon. Harry tightened his fists as he watched the fight. "If anyone figures it out, it'll be _them_," he said. "But I can help, if only to distract it."

Ron paled until he looked like the ghosts surrounding them. "You can't mean you're going to actually fight that."

"Stay here if you want, Ron," Hermione said as she moved up beside Harry.

"Yeah, bro," said Fred, popping out of nowhere. "It's only the fate of the whole world at stake here."

Ron gave a great start, but Harry couldn't spare any more attention on them. He looked at Hermione, who nodded and took his hand.

"One word of advice before you go, Harry," said a familiar voice that nearly broke his heart. Dumbledore appeared in front of him, smiling gently as he peered at them over his glasses. Harry froze in shock as he continued, "This creature may seem much worse than Voldemort, but I think they are very much alike."

"Alike?" Harry repeated blankly as Hermione's hand tightened on his.

"Indeed. They both fear the same things."

"What do you—" Harry's words were cut off as Hermione twisted on the spot and he was pulled into the freezing tube of Apparition.

* * *

Bakura landed on the ground with a shout of pain and didn't immediately get up this time. He couldn't understand; Diabound was already incredibly strong, and now he had his host's rage to fuel his attacks to further heights. Yet every Spiral Surge, every Destructive Burst Stream, every punch and hit and slap with his tail was ineffective. Worse, all his attacks seemed to make Zorc stronger.

As if in response to this thought, Zorc opened his mouth and shot a great red ball of energy at Osiris. The god-monster twisted to avoid it, but it clipped him, sending him spiraling into a nearby building as the attack itself plowed into a street. Dust, ruble, and bodies shot in every direction. Beside Bakura, Atem grunted in pain and staggered, though he managed to stay on his feet. _Infuriating pharaoh,_ the white-haired boy thought, finally struggling to his feet. Vaguely, he was aware of Malik and Yugi commanding their small army of duel monsters to help the injured people.

"_Diabound!"_ he cried, directing the monster into another fruitless attack.

"Bakura, stop it!" Malik yelled from behind him, but he ignored the Egyptian boy and focused on the invisible ball of energy gathering between Diabound's outstretched hands. Zorc swiveled to face the smaller monster with a grin, but suddenly the great blue bulk of Obelisk materialized behind it and grabbed it. Diabound's Spiral Surge hit it square in the eye.

The demon shook the earth with its roar. It thrashed, breaking free of Obelisk's grasp, and its tail whipped around to slam Diabound into the ground. Bakura hit the ground once more as well, breath blown away as his body felt the blow dealt to his soul's manifestation. Dazed, he could only watch as a red ball of fire formed between Zorc's jaws and rushed out at him.

A shadow jumped in front of him, caught the blast, disintegrated. Behind him, Yugi made a strangled noise, and he understood. The smaller boy and Malik had immediately jumped to helping the terrorized people of London when they had reached the battle rather than attack Zorc themselves. This time, he had sent his Dark Magician to protect Bakura. The irony of Mahaado's spirit keeping _him_ safe gave him enough strength to chuckle and push himself back up to a sitting position.

Unfortunately, Zorc was still there, leaning down to grin at him. Osiris landed on its shoulder and bit down on its neck, but the demon didn't seem to notice. _"You chose wrong when you turned against me, thief,"_ it growled. _"Now your rage and hatred only strengthens me against you."_ Its eyes glinted as it raised a hand. _"And you have outlived your usefulness."_

Obelisk grabbed the arm and wrenched it back before Zorc could crush Bakura with the blow. The demon pulled away with ease, however, and it turned to swing a punch at the offending god monster. At the same time, Osiris fluttered away from its shoulders and swooped down to lay a blanket of fire at Zorc's feet.

By the time Bakura noticed the demon's tail whipping around toward him, it was far too late to avoid it.

* * *

Harry Apparated into what he thought was the edge of the battle beside Bakura, and all he could see was the great dark appendage sweeping toward them. On instinct, he cried, "Protego!" and heard two other voices yelling the same spell.

A large shield sprang into existence in front of them, and Zorc's tail slammed into it, throwing the wizards who summoned it to the ground. It held, though, and the tail skipped over everyone to hit the nearest building. It started to move back toward them, but Harry felt Hermione grab him, and they Apparated to a place farther back from the battle.

She had grabbed Bakura as well. The white-haired boy groaned and clutched at his head. "What _was_ that?" he asked.

"Apparition," spoke up Ron. Harry gave him a grin; he had never doubted that his best friend would join them. Ron continued, "It's the wizard's way of traveling."

"I think I don't like it," Bakura said.

Yugi came running back to them as fast as he could through the debris-filled street, with Malik not far behind. "Are you okay?" he asked them.

"You're late," Malik said without waiting for a response to the smaller boy's question.

"It's not easy to Apparate under the best of conditions," Hermione snapped. "_You_ try Apparating into a war zone."

"Whatever that means," Malik grumbled.

Harry ignored them both; his attention was on Zorc and Obelisk, who were now grappling with each other.

Ron was watching the battle too. "How are we supposed to fight that?" he asked in a small voice.

"I've been wondering the same thing," Harry said. "But we have to start somewhere."

"Like where?" Malik scoffed. "What are you going to do, throw some of your puny little spells at it?"

"Maybe I will," Harry shot at him. "And maybe one of them will actually work. It's better than sitting around and doing nothing. Ron? Hermione?"

"We're with you, mate," Ron said, and Hermione nodded her agreement.

"Hit and run," she said.

That was a good enough plan for now. Harry nodded at her and focused on a pile of rubble close to the feuding giants. Once he was sure he had his destination firmly in mind, he Apparated to it. "_Stupefy!_" he yelled, pointing his wand at the dark mass of Zorc.

The spell hit its hide and fizzled out. If Zorc felt it at all, it didn't react in the least.

Harry Apparated back to where the foreigners rested, and Hermione and Ron popped back beside him. "Any luck?" he asked.

They both shook their heads. Of course not, none of them had expected to have an effect on the demon. However, Harry wasn't about to give up. The three of them scattered again and tried a new round of spells on Zorc.

"Relashio," Hermione said when they met up again. "I saw it cut into Zorc's tail, and it grunted a little."

"It's a distraction, if nothing else." Harry turned, expecting a snide remark from Malik, but he and Yugi had gone, occupied with evacuating people from the battlefield and helping the wounded. Only Bakura remained. Harry frowned at him. "Have you given up fighting already?"

"I cannot fight," he said, his face a mixture of bitterness and sorrow as he watched the battle. "I have too much hate in me."

Harry stared at him, but Kingsley suddenly Apparated beside them before he could ask what Bakura meant.

"I assume you're standing here because you're coming up with a battle plan?" he said.

"Something like that," Harry replied.

"Your best plan is to distract Zorc," Bakura said quietly. "The pharaoh has summoned two god monsters, and I'm sure he will soon summon a third. That's a lot of pressure, and anything you can do to take Zorc's attention off him will help, even if there are only four of you."

"There are quite a bit more than four of us," Kingsley said with a slow smile. "All the Ministry witches and wizards still able to fight are getting into position now."

Ah. So that was where Kingsley had gone. Harry had lost track of him at the start of the battle and hadn't had time to spare a second thought for him, but it seemed Kingsley had gone to recruit some help. _I should have thought of that sooner,_ he realized. Out loud, he said, "Relashio seems to have some effect."

Kingsley nodded and wand. A great silver cloud poured from its tip, formed into the lynx that was his Patronus, and bounded away. "Let's get started then," he said, and he Disapparated.

Harry did the same, going to the same pile of rubble. "_Relashio!"_ he cried, and to his amazement, dozens of spells arose from all around him to home in on Zorc.

The demon widened his eyes and tried to break away from Obelisk's grip, but the barrage of spells hit him dead on. He shrieked and whirled around, spitting red fireballs. Most went wild, but a few managed to hurl toward the ground close by, including one that seemed to zero in on Harry. He tensed, trying wildly to think of a place, any place, to Apparate to, but the attack didn't even get close before an ethereal form appeared in the air right in its path. The fireball hit it with a bright explosion, but it didn't seem to flinch in the least.

Harry shook his head to clear the spots from his eyes, and he looked back to see what had saved him. It was a spirit. One of the old Egyptian spirits that Bakura had summoned with his world-merging spell.

* * *

Bakura smiled as the ghosts of his ancient home spread out and began to defend the wizards. He still had some control over them, mostly because they wanted so badly to help. Through the magic that had bound them through the ages, the magic that was still inherent in Diabound, he could feel as they took the attacks that would have killed the wizards. Being dead spirits, they were not harmed at all.

This, at least, he could contribute to the battle.

* * *

Harry abandoned the hit-and-run strategy as soon as he understood his new asset. It wasn't much needed anyway, as Zorc was being attacked from too many different angles to focus on just one. The stream of spells rained on it without pause, even as the Egyptian god monsters continued their assault. A third one soon joined the fight, a great golden bird that screamed down from the sky suddenly with outstretched claws. Zorc seemed more wary of this one, and it focused its attention on avoiding the golden energy that spewed from its wings. Harry remembered what Bakura had said about summoning the god monsters and sneaked a glance at Atem, who stood nearby. The pharaoh was still tall and straight, but his fists were clenched at his sides, and his face showed the strain that three powerful monsters were putting on him. He was amazed that anyone could control even one of the beasts, let alone three at once. This pharaoh must have been an amazing person in life.

A sudden chill raced through his heart, interrupting his barrage of spells. The other wizards must have felt it as well, for the streaks of light faltered, and Zorc took the opportunity to slam its fist into Obelisk, sending the monster reeling to the ground.

"What?" the wizard breathed, trying to fight off a wave a panic that he didn't understand.

Lily Potter appeared beside him. "The spell is unraveling," she said in a worried voice. "We are running out of time."

"Spell?" Harry repeated blankly.

"The spell that joins our worlds," his father said, appearing beside his mother. "Life and death are opposites; they cannot co-exist. Even the powerful magic that is borne of death can only force them together for a short time. If we are to kill Zorc, we must do so quickly."

"Great," Harry muttered. It was one thing to say that Zorc had to die in a hurry, quite another to actually kill it. The rain of spells had continued: a thousand rips into the demon's hide that seemed to close and heal within seconds. Obelisk was back up and charging at Zorc, but his movements were slower, and Osiris and Ra merely circled overhead for now. The battle was wearing on their summoner.

_This isn't working,_ Harry decided. They had to try something new, but what?

"_Stupefy,"_ he yelled, and as he expected, nothing happened. He couldn't give up, though. Not now.

"_Reducto. Expelliarmus. Petrificus Totalus!"_

The last spell was a little ridiculous, he knew that, but he was too frustrated to do anything but shout any spell that came to mind.

"_Sectumsempra!"_

Zorc actually paused in its assault long enough to send a toothy grin over its shoulder. Then it grabbed Osiris by the tail and slammed the red dragon into the ground.

Nearby, Atem doubled over and fell to his knees.

Harry jaw dropped. "Did I…make him stronger?" he whispered.

James put a hand on his shoulder. "Zorc is a creature of death and darkness. You must not resort to Dark Magic, especially not against a thing like this."

"Then..that's why Ryou Bakura stopped fighting," Harry said. "Too much hate…he was making Zorc stronger, too."

The ground trembled, this time not from the devastation of the battle. The spell really was ending. Harry could feel it in his very soul. They were almost out of time.

_Maybe there's some way we could at least trap him in the underworld when the separation happens. But how could anyone figure that out in time? And what if we all die, too? Then what will any of it matter?_

"It is too early to give up hope, Harry," said Dumbledore, appearing beside him.

As always, the old wizard seemed to know exactly how he felt. Harry shook his head and gave a helpless laugh. "So you say, but…" _A creature of darkness. Death, fear, despair, they all feed him. He's like a giant, unstoppable dementor._

_Dementor…_

That gave him an idea.

Closing his eyes, Harry thought back to the moment he saw his parents step through the veil. To see their faces again, when he was so sure that he never would. He thought of the last time he had seen Ginny. The sunlight in her wind-tousled hair as they both raced after a Snitch. A pang of fear accompanied the mental picture of her face; it had been so long since he had seen her. Where was she now? Was she caught in this battle?

He pushed those feelings down and concentrated. _Mom…Dad…Ginny…Ron…Hermione…_

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

The silver stag burst from his wand and galloped full speed into the battle, slashing right through Zorc's leg.

The demon stumbled and fell.

Harry let out a whoop of sheer surprise. Atem turned sharply to look at him, then climbed to his feet and turned his attention back to the battle. Ra dove from the sky and raked its claws across Zorc's neck. The demon staggered under the heavy blow, and Harry grinned.

Another silver streak, too small for him to make out the form, joined the battle and attacked Zorc's arm. Then another came, and another. Clearly the other wizards had noticed Harry's success. He sent his Patronus back around to stab at its feet, and soon Zorc was flailing around, trying to fend off the dozens of Patronuses that gathered around him.

The very air trembled, and a crack of light appeared in the sky.

"A good idea, but not soon enough," said Atem. Harry turned to watch him climb up to where the wizard was standing. Being a spirit, he did not gasp for breath, or stop for a rest, or even sweat, but Harry could sense the enormous strain that the battle had put on him. It showed in his eyes, and in his weary posture.

"Is there anything else we can do?" Harry asked him. He was fresh out of ideas.

To his surprise, Atem nodded. "Combine the spirits into one."

Harry stared at him, dumbfounded. "I…don't think that's possible."

"It is. This spell of light is a manifestation of your soul, much the same as our duel monsters. The duel monsters can be combined, and so can this spell of yours."

Harry didn't bother trying to understand the reference to duel monsters and focused on the more dire facts. "But how? No one has ever tried something like that before."

Atem gave a tired sounding sigh. "I shall do it," he said. "I shall combine Osiris, Ra, and Obelisk into one being. Focus on that union as you cast your spell, and your soul's monster will be drawn in as well. Can you spread word to the other wizards?"

"Of course." He was unsure of this new plan, but it was the best one they had. Harry let his Patronus dissipate, and then he recast the spell, this time concentrating on the message this stag had to carry. Soon it jumped away, carrying news of the impending Patronus merge to all the wizards around the battlefield. He only hoped some of them would listen.

And then, one by one, the silver specters surrounding the demon winked out. Zorc gave a maniacal laugh. _"Have you finally learned then, mortals?"_ it roared. _"You cannot outlast me. You cannot hope to defeat me. Know despair, and tremble!_"

A faint, constant thundering noise punctuated its speech.

Harry looked nervously at Atem. "Uh, pharaoh?"

His eyes were closed, and his body shook as he muttered in ancient Egyptian. Harry looked back at the battlefield to see the three god monsters glowing, but the light was faint, and it pulsed ever so slightly. The pharaoh was running out of energy. Harry cursed. If this didn't work, what could they possibly do? They were doomed.

That was when Ryou Bakura literally dropped from the sky to stand beside them, accompanied by Diabound. "Problems, Pharaoh?" he asked. "Did you exert yourself too much too soon?"

Atem did not bother to open his eyes. "If you have nothing but insults to contribute, thief, go away and leave me be."

"Heh," the white-haired boy said. "You really think I brought us this far just to watch everyone die?" He laid his hands on Atem's shoulders. "Take what strength you need from me, Pharaoh. Just make sure you succeed."

The grim look on Atem's face quirked into a small smile, and he resumed his chant. The glow surrounding the god monsters steadied, and then intensified until they were so brilliant that Harry had to shield his eyes. Then they all dove toward each other, and the wizard suddenly remembered his role in the plan. Squeezing his eyes closed, shutting out all the pain and devastation that surrounded him, he focused on creating the most powerful Patronus he could. He had to. Everything depended on it.

_For my friends. For Ginny._

_For everyone that fought for good. For everyone that died for peace._

_For love._

_For life._

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

A massive stag burst from his wand and sailed into the ball of light that floated in front of the startled Zorc. Around him, a thousand other Patronuses did the same.

"_Give up already!"_ the demon shrieked.

"Come forth, Horoakhty." Atem's voice was barely above a whisper, but the beautiful golden-haired woman who formed at the center of the light was the clearest victory shout Harry had ever heard. Zorc obviously recognized her, for it backed away, screaming in defiance.

Horoakhty raised the radiant sword she held in her hands, and with one blow she smote the demon in half. Zorc's dark bulk fell away, the echo of his dying scream fading into the growing thunder-roar.

The sky brightened into a sudden wash of white, and the world ripped apart.


	14. Epilogue

I sincerely thank everyone who stuck with me through spotty updates and gave me encouragement. Here is the epilogue, and I do NOT plan to write a sequel. I know there's potential there, but this story is completely done in my head, so whatever happens next is completely up to your imagination. It's been a fun ride, guys. Feel free to leave a review.

Epilogue

Harry stood in front of the Head Auror's desk and tried not to fidget. Said Head Auror, a tall older man named Jeremiah Jumper, took his merry time reading Kingsley's report on Harry's first case. Every so often, he would mutter an "Mm-hmm," or grimace a little, but by and large he gave no reaction.

Harry was sure that his first case was enough of a disaster to end his Auror career before it even got started. Destroying half of London and breaking the International Statute of Secrecy so thoroughly that it could never be used again surely warranted being kicked out of the Auror training program.

Finally, Jumper looked up from the report. "Well, Mr. Potter, it seems to live up to every lofty expectation granted you," he said. "Congratulations on a first case well solved. I'm sure your next case, while not as interesting, will help you get more practice in the more…day-to-day skills we Aurors employ."

Harry felt his jaw drop. After a minute of trying to get his voice to work, he finally croaked out, "You mean…I'm not sacked?"

"Sacked?" Jumper actually chuckled. "My dear boy, why would you ever think such a thing?"

"But…the Statute of Secrecy…"

"Yes, that will be a problem. However, it is not _your_ problem," Jumper said. "Let the nation's Ministries and the Wizengamot deal with the world knowing about wizard-kind. You focus on becoming the brilliant Auror that you are turning into." He looked back down at the report and shook his head, muttering under his breath, "Only the Boy Who Lived could have pulled this off."

"Th-thank you, sir," Harry said, dumbfounded. He hadn't been this surprised since…well, since yesterday, when the horrible noise of the worlds splitting faded away and sunshine filtered down through the haze of smoke, ash, and dust. They had all been still alive. That had been an incredible relief. And as nice as it still was… "Sir, I still feel responsible for everything that has happened. If I had recognized the demon sooner, or been able to stop him from going through the veil—"

"Harry, if anyone else had taken this case, they would have assumed that Isaac Harwell was cursed from the beginning, and they would have focused on keeping him locked up in St. Mungo's until it was far too late to even think about demonic possession or anything of the sort. You stayed right on top of this case, and you did it with ease. No one is to blame for what happened, and I daresay a great deal of good shall come of it, even if the immediate future seems bleak. Be proud, Harry. Not disappointed."

"Yes, sir." Harry looked down, fiddling with one last question in his mind as Jumper busied himself with filing away the report. Finally, the Head of the Auror Department turned from his filing cabinet and looked back up at Harry. "Yes, Trainee? Is there anything else?"

"Sir…" Harry continued debating the question, but since he already had Jumper's attention, he decided to go with it. "Isn't there anything we can do about the International Statute of Secrecy? After over three hundred years…"

"Yes, it's a shame, isn't it?" Jumper said. "But there really is nothing we can do about the destruction and death toll in London, and especially about the merger with the…underworld." He paused and shuddered. Harry didn't blame him. "No, no, the secret is out, and there is nothing we can do about it. There are far too few of us to go around Obliviating the mind of every single Muggle in the world. All we can do now is live with it."

"Of course," Harry agreed, but he could not help remembering life with his aunt and uncle, and he was worried.

He left Jumper's tiny makeshift office and walked down the stairs to where Kingsley had set up his own room. Due to the destruction of the Ministry of Magic and the worldwide uproar caused by the revelation of the existence of wizards, most of the British wizarding community—including the government—had fled to the one place they felt secure: Hogsmeade. It was still the only all-wizard community in Britain, and now it was overflowing with witches and wizards from all over the country. The Ministry had managed to commandeer a small three-story building on the main street, and now the more important officials both lived and worked in its cramped rooms.

Kingsley was hard at work scribbling the latest in a long line of letters and orders when Harry knocked on his doorframe. "Come on in," he said with a glance up.

"I don't want to disturb you if you're busy, sir," Harry replied, staying just outside. "I can come back later."

"Harry, I going to busy for many months, possibly years to come, and I know you have other places to be as well." Kingsley put down his quill and waved him in. "But I need a break and you look like you need encouragement. Jumper accepted my report, I hope?"

"He did," Harry said, stepping in and slumping down into the single guest chair. "I get to keep training to be an Auror. That's not what I'm worried about."

"There is quite a lot to be worried about," Kingsley said. "What is foremost in your mind?"

"The Statute of Secrecy. How are we going to handle telling the world that we have existed under their very noses for centuries?"

"That, I am leaving up to capable liaisons such as Harriet Monaghan," Kingsley replied.

Harry stared at him. "You're…letting other people figure it out?"

"Harry, delegating is one of the most important jobs of Ministers and Heads of Office. Remember that when you are the head of the Aurors."

"Er, right," the young wizard said with a blush. He doubted that he would ever achieve that loft position, but Kingsley said it like it was already set in stone. He didn't know what to think of that, so he continued with his questions. "What about the shadow magic? It seems really powerful, and I hate to think of someone like Voldemort getting their hands on it."

"Few people other than you and I even know it exists," Kingsley said. "But just in case, I allowed the Ishtar boy to take back the Millennium Items on his promise that he would find some way to destroy them, or at least keep them hidden from the world. I'm also ordering the veil to be torn down permanently. Magic drawn from death is too volatile and dangerous to even study, so I choose to let it stay buried in the ancient past."

Harry grinned at him. "That sounds good to me, sir. There is one last thing, though. I'm not really worried about it; I'm just curious."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at him, a silent consent for him to continue.

"Why didn't we see Voldemort in the merged world? Or Grindelwald, or any of the other dark wizards we've fought over the years?"

The Minister sat back and considered this for a minute. "I cannot be sure," he said at last. "But likely there is more to the world of death than just what we saw. It could be that Voldemort was in a place that we could not see, and that he cannot escape from."

"That…sounds reasonable enough to me," Harry said slowly. "I hope it's true. I'd hate to think that what we saw is all there is to being dead."

"As would I," Kingsley replied. "Have I eased your mind?"

"For now." Harry grimaced as he stood up. "I'm sure I'll be worried all over again in another hour."

His mentor's expression softened. "Be careful out there, Harry."

"I will, sir. Thank you," Harry said. He walked from the office and down to the building's front door. Ron and Hermione waited for him just outside.

"What took you so long, mate?" Ron asked. "Did the report not go well?"

"It went well," Harry answered with a grin. "I'm still in training."

"Of course you are," Hermione said dismissively. "Kingsley wouldn't write a bad report on you, and no one in their right mind would choose to interpret it badly. Are you ready to go now?"

"Yeah. Just got a few questions out of my mind first." Harry took a deep breath. The three of them were Apparating back to London to join one of the clean-up crews that was sweeping through the streets. Having seen the destruction as it was taking place, he knew it was going to be a difficult and heart-wrenching job. However, it was less than he owed the city and the people who lived there. He had decided to stop playing the if-only game in his mind—for every better scenario he thought up, five worse ones presented themselves—but he still felt guilty about being fooled by Zorc when it possessed Ryou Bakura and escaped to find the veil. That was something it would take a while to overcome.

He smiled as Hermione took his and Ron's hands. He knew he would overcome it. And he would help the people of London and become an Auror and be a wizard in a world that knew all about wizards. Why should any of it scared him? He had faced down a demon…and lived.

Hermione squeezed tight, and together they twisted into Disapparition.

* * *

The two boys stumbled as the Portkey dropped them into the office of the Japanese Portkey Authority. No one was there to greet them so, feeling a little lost and forgotten, they made their way through the Ministry until they found the front lobby. There they stopped when Ryou walked over to the waterfall and dipped his hand into the pool at its base.

"You're…really happy to be alive, aren't you?" Yugi said.

Ryou shrugged, watching the water ripple around his fingers. "Happy…surprised…confused. I lived my life three thousand years ago and died wasting it on empty vengeance. Why am I still here now? Why wouldn't the dead claim me for their own when their world pulled away?"

"Because they know you don't belong with them," Yugi answered with a smile. "Not yet."

Ryou snorted. Did the smaller boy always have such optimism?

Yugi sat down beside him. "Really, Bakura-kun. You've got a second chance. What does it matter what you did three thousand years ago? You helped us defeat Zorc. Zorc is gone, this time for good." He sounded like he couldn't believe it even as he said it. "Now you have a second chance at life. Instead of questioning it, why not make the most of it?"

Why not, indeed? Ryou took a deep breath. For the first time that he could remember, he felt free. Zorc was gone…destroyed. The weight that he hadn't even known he had carried had been lifted, and he was free to live as he chose. He thought back to the previous day, when the demon had slid apart under Horoakhty's sword and the merged world separated. He had thought he would die…probably everyone did. It was a separation felt in the soul as much as sensed around them. Terrible, core-deep pain, the loud roar of thunder, the shaking ground, electricity in the air…and then quiet. Stillness. When he had looked up, the sun was filtering down through the haze. The dark skies and strange mist were gone, along with all the spirits that had been summoned. They were alone…and alive.

"Do you think Malik will find a way to destroy the Millennium Items?" he asked suddenly. He didn't want to think about not seeing any of his family again.

"Probably," Yugi replied. "Unless some other wizarding ministry has an open door to the underworld, they should just be ordinary, if a little creepy, hunks of gold."

_Hunks of gold with my people's flesh and blood in them,_ Ryou thought, but he bit the retort back. That wasn't Yugi's fault, and he wasn't entirely sure that Yugi even knew about it. If he didn't, better to leave him in the dark.

"He'll probably be able to just melt them down," Yugi was saying, not noticing the small bit of inner turmoil he had sparked in his comrade. "If not, he'll put them in the deepest corners of the Ishtar vault, where no one will ever find them again."

"I suppose that's the best we can hope for," Ryou said, pulling his hand out of the pool and shaking off fat drops of water. He dried it on his shirt and stood up. "What do you plan to do now?" he asked.

"Go back to life," Yugi replied without a second thought. "Duel monsters, school, my friends…I can't wait to tell them what happened. They'll be so mad that they missed out. What about you?"

Ryou shrugged. "Finish school. Go to college. After that…"

"You could be an Egyptologist easily," Yugi pointed out.

"I have no desire to have a job that sticks me in a past I want to forget."

"Right," the smaller boy murmured, looking down in embarrassment. Then a mischievous grin stole across his face. "Well, you could always become a wizard instead."

Ryou groaned. Just before they had left to return home, a wizard at the British Ministry had insisted on testing all three boys for signs of magical talent. Malik and Yugi had come up negative. Whatever magic they had once possessed had been given to them solely by the Millennium Items. Ryou, much to his humiliation, had turned out to have "enormous magical potential." The wizard had been baffled as to how no one had noticed him before. Ryou suspected it had something to do either with Zorc or with being a reincarnation.

"I'll think about that," he muttered.

"You should," Yugi said, serious this time. "It gives you options, if nothing else."

Ryou nodded. "Thanks, Yugi-kun."

"What are friends for?" he replied. "Come on. We've got some major explaining to do."

_Friends._ For Yugi to still say that after all he had done meant a lot. Ryou smiled as he followed the smaller boy through the crowds of bustling, worried-looking wizards to the street outside.

The sun was shining. The air was warm. And he had friends.

Perhaps Ryou Bakura could make use of this second chance, after all.


End file.
